Ubiquitous (aka Weathering Every Harsh Tide)
by YunQianMeng
Summary: A whip in his hand and three in hers, that's where the situation was led to. There was no way he could have expected such a turnout from his irresponsible actions. A turnout where his life came to an abrupt halt and a slow chug, facing her ubiquity. Ana and Christian cheating story. Canon. HEA guaranteed to the best of my abilities.
1. The Beginning of the End

I should never have done that. I should never have yielded, given him the right. I should never have given it up. I don't know why I did it, then. By the time I realised that it was a mistake, it was too late. I was far too gone to do anything about it. I couldn't even recognise myself. I wanted out. And I wanted it now, desperately. Because of what it would do to Ted, I never even contemplated the idea for more than a minute.

I couldn't believe that the man I was perfectly, absolutely in love with and perfectly happy with, the man with whom I had been living a fairy tale dream a few years ago could change so drastically and hurt me to such an extent that I was beyond repair. The most pathetic, pitiful and irritating part was the fact that I was still in love with him. I would still do anything for him; and these wild, diametrically opposite feelings were draining all my energy reserves. Ted realised somehow that I had changed; a four year old boy could be sensitive to my feelings, a feat which no one had done in those five years. Part of it was my fault, since I hadn't seen it fit to share the details of my situation with anybody. I was afraid of what he would do to me. Plus, I was ashamed of all I had gone through and ashamed of talking about it to another person. Besides, no one was aware of anything being wrong at home. My husband and I were first class actors, capable of putting up a splendid show for all the public to see.

I could accept a kiss from him in public without flinching. When I stretched my hand out to hold his, he could accept it without being repulsed by my touch. We would continue inside jokes without an issue, pretending that they were still relevant. We would laugh at each other's jokes and flirt with each other like newly-weds. But the moment we climbed into the car, we would sit on the opposite ends of the seat, staring out of the window or fiddling with our phones, not speaking a word.

Ted was sensitive enough not to share any of this to the others, though I doubted he understood much of it, the oblivious toddler that he was. He had no idea that the reason for my despair was his adoring, loving father whom he worshipped. I didn't want him to know the reason either; I didn't want him to nurse any animosity towards his father that would cause a rift between them for the rest of their lives. I was glad that their relationship was intact and thriving.

It all began when Ted was born. A worn out, worried sick Christian, my newly born son and I returned back to our humble abode. After the mini celebration with Gail and Taylor, we went upstairs, tucked little Ted in, set up the baby monitor and returned to our room. We changed clothes and fell on the bed, exhausted. I snuggled against him and he put an arm around me. He seemed a tad uncomfortable. "What is it, babe?" I asked him sleepily. He didn't respond for a few seconds.

"Are you tired?" he asked me warily. Of course I am, I thought, I just pushed a tiny human being from my bulging body!

"Not at all." I lied. "What is it?" I replied. He fidgeted and sat up abruptly. I sat up too, worriedly looking at him. "Christian?" I ventured.

"I can't stand it, Ana! It's not possible to sit back and simply let things happen! I can't leave things be!" he exclaimed, frustrated. I was utterly bewildered.

"Huh?" I said intelligently, looking at him blankly.

"Baby, every time you don't listen to what I say, you get into trouble and cause everyone around a lot of anguish. Not that I am blaming you," he said hastily, seeing me frown and opening my mouth to protest. "It's just that if you were to listen to me in the first place, we wouldn't have to go through anything at all. Do you understand me?" he looked at me, upset, running his hand through his hair. There was silence for some time as Christian shifted uncomfortably, clearly disturbed.

"What do you want me to do, Christian?" I asked finally, cautiously. I already knew what I was going to hear.

"I need control, Ana. Let me do things for you. It will be hell of a lot simpler, then. Fuck, we wouldn't have any trouble at all. I can't function without control. It's an integral part of me. I need it like a fish needs water. It is essential for me…" he continued like this agitatedly for about twenty minutes ending with, "… so frankly, I need to know where you are, what you are doing and what you plan to do to you to keep you safe." I took a deep breath tiredly and gave him an exasperated look. "Fine, whatever you want, Christian." He looked at me incredulously and, after a couple of seconds gave me a slow exultant smile. I had no idea then that the same smile would be so foreign to me, years later.

Then the horrors began. He began to control my daily schedule, where I went, what I did every minute of the day. I wasn't allowed to work; I had to care for Ted full time – no questions asked. He deprived me from doing things that I most desired. Each time I got angry or depressed at this tyranny, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. For Christian, I said to myself. Somewhere along the way, I realised that he was squashing my every fantasy, every dream, and every opinion.

Everything happened his way, or it didn't happen at all. I could either drive with Sawyer, or not at all. I could either call my parents only and not meet them, or not at all remain in contact with them. By this time, the realisation had dawned on me too late. I had withered away to becoming a shadow of the person I once was. My self-confidence, my ability to stand on my own two feet, my ability to have an opinion, my ability to stand up for myself had all long since been destroyed. I could not find the strength to put my foot down, to stand proud and tall in front of him. I was trapped in a gilded cage. So I continued in the same manner.

About three years after Ted was born, he stopped coming home early. He stopped spending quality time with me, though he took Ted out frequently and both of them thoroughly enjoyed these Father – Son bonding sessions. I wasn't even allowed to complain; else a few effectively harsh words would leave my spirit broken. We stopped having sex, even though it had entirely been for his pleasure before. I started smelling alcohol on him every night for weeks together. That was when the arguments began. We argued and verbally fought with each other day and night. Though this should have increased my courage and revived my spirit, I only got worse.

One night, he came home slamming the front door at 2 in the morning. I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. I sat on the bed waiting for him to arrive. When he did, he threw me a look of disgust and threw his shirt at me after unbuttoning it. "Christian!" I said, appalled. "Where were you?" I demanded. Then he did something I never expected him to do in my entire life. He struck me. I was shocked to silence. Before I could recover, he struck me once again. Aware of Ted sleeping down the hall, I only sucked in my breath sharply.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I hissed. He removed his trousers and tackled me on the bed. I struggled and fought him, whispering pleas which he didn't seem to hear or register. I started panicking and my breaths came out shorter and faster as he readied himself. He fucked me thoroughly. For the first time, I knew what it was like to be raped, by my own husband. After he was satisfied, he flopped on the bed and went to sleep. Just like that.

The next morning, he gave no sign of being aware of the events of the previous night. I was terrified of his every move. I felt endangered in my own home. I was sore all over, all day. When he returned home late again, the same events recurred. I was in a daze. This isn't happening, I thought, it can't be. It is a dream; eventually, I will wake up. I never did. As the years passed, the physical assaults increased and I bought more and more make up to hide the scars from Ted and everyone else.


	2. The End

"Ted, eat up your breakfast, please." I begged. My son looked up at me sharply, taking note of my tone. He nodded and quickly gulped down the cereal. Gail picked up the dishes and put them away. Ted climbed out of his chair and came to me. He kissed me on the cheek and I reciprocated. "Be good." I told him.

"Bye, mom!" He cried. I simply smiled. He picked up his bag and followed Sawyer out of the door to go to school. I mechanically stood up and started tidying everything in front of my eyes. Gail was washing the dishes.

"Mrs Grey?" she said hesitantly. I sighed.

"Gail, Christian isn't here. You can call me Ana." I reminded her. Christian despised me getting close to any of the staff. I saw her smile.

"Ana, then. I don't know how to say this, or how you'll receive it. I… it is not my place to be making such statements." She seemed really nervous. I saw her fidgeting with the cloth in her hand. I breathed deeply.

"What is it, Gail?" She stepped out of the kitchen and approached me. She looked at me with wide pleading eyes.

"Ana, living in the same house as you, I am privy to some of the goings on between you and Mr Grey. I can't tell you how sorry I am and how disappointed in Mr Grey. I never expected your marriage to take this turn. All I am saying is, if you need someone to talk to, open up to, I am right here."

I gulped and blinked a couple of times, staring at her. Afraid of fucking security cameras, I muttered, "Thank you." I turned away and ran upstairs, afraid of an emotional outburst. I found myself locked up in the first room I could find – Christian's study. I locked the door and squeezed my eyes shut, a few tears escaping them. I then looked around the room. Like a tsunami wave, all the blissful memories of our courtship, of the early days of our marriage came rushing back to me. I walked over to his table and touched it, miserably. I wanted to be four year old, like my son. I wanted my father. I wanted to break things and hit things and unburden my head. Overcome with the sudden, unexpected grief, I sat down on Christian's huge chair.

Surprisingly, I found his computer on. My eyebrows shot up. The man was usually so careful. I dragged the chair-on-wheels towards me and sat down; suddenly curious. I clicked on the opened browser window and saw that his mails were open. I was just staring perplexedly at the screen when a mail arrived. Shellie Hale, it said. Automatically, I opened it. What I saw changed my life forever.

From: 09:27 am

To: cgrey

Subject: Sorry!

Hey, Baby 3

I am sorry I can't come to GEH today. I have to attend some fucking charity function, although I would rather be fucking you :P LOL. And listen, don't worry about your memory loss. It's just that we're both dog tired after all that… action ;) What with your wife and all. You poor baby. Why can't she just fucking leave you alone? I can't wait until tomorrow.

Loads of kisses,

Shellie XOXO

I don't know how long I just sat there, reading the mail again and again, hoping it would disappear the next second, hoping all of this was somehow a big lie, a practical joke, a prank, a misunderstanding, a cross-wired miscommunication. I sat there drowning in a whirlwind of my own making, the news refusing to sink in to my brain. My subconscious gave me a sympathetic look. It's actually happening. Believe it, she seemed to say. But I couldn't. I needed confirmation. I needed proof. I needed it from that man himself.

I stood up and stumbled losing my balance. My head was reeling from the discovery. My eyes were fixed on the mail. The line 'why can't she fucking leave you alone?' popped out of the screen and swam in front of my eyes. Enraged, I picked up the nearest thing on his desk – a stapler – and threw it at the computer screen. It shattered into a million pieces, some falling on my skin and settling in. I didn't care, because something more important of mine was bleeding – My heart. I tried to remove the pieces savagely but they didn't seem to want to come out. I cut my hand in nine different places. Good, my subconscious sneered. At least this way, you are getting punished for your naiveté assumptions.

I strode out of the room, grabbed my mobile phone and my purse and ran down the stairs, in a fit of rage. Suddenly, I stopped at the landing. What was I angry about? Sure, he had cheated. But had he been promising his fidelity the last three years? And hadn't the man just given me the best fucking gift ever? This was my escape! This was what I was looking for – my out! I scary sense of exultance passed through me. I felt like I had just swerved from depressed to manic in a matter of seconds.

I went back to my room and packed everything that rightfully belonged to me. That excluded the obscenely expensive dresses, shoes, purses etc. I removed my wedding and engagement rings and my charm bracelet and placed it on the dresser. I took out about nearly $25,000 that I had saved up in the years. Then, I took some of Theodore's clothes and other essentials and packed them together in the suitcase. I yanked the luggage downstairs. I opened the door and Sawyer appeared out of nowhere.

"Sawyer, I need someone to pick Ted up from school. Then, I need you to take me to GEH; Now." I said tightly. He gave me a startled look, but nodded. "Oh, and if you tell Taylor or anyone else about this, by God, I will not be responsible for my actions." I said in a low voice. He gave me a frightened look and nodded tersely. As we rode past those huge bungalows of our locality, I picked up my phone and booked two tickets for a flight to Tacoma, Washington at 11.30. Sawyer cast me a worried look. I ignored him.

Despite my sense of relief, I felt Christian's insult sting me harshly. I had given Christian the best years of my life. I had given him my heart, body and soul; and a beautiful, wonderful child. What more could he have wanted from me? What did I not give him that he had to run to another woman to get? Why had he betrayed my trust, despite the rifts between us? To call mine a good marriage was impossible. It was anything but that. I remembered each and every slap, each strike and each punch. I remembered all of his night time exploits with me.

All this further fuelled my determination. This was the last straw, the last nail in the coffin. I would not tolerate his bullshit anymore. I would not put up with him anymore. I was done, whether or not he confirmed my suspicions.

We arrived at GEH. I quickly got out of the car and asked Sawyer to wait for me. I stepped inside the elevator and rode with three blondes. One of them smiled at me and asked, "Are you here for the PA interview?"

I looked at her frostily and said, "I am Anastasia Grey." The three looked at me, agape. As soon as Christian's floor arrived, I stepped out of the elevator and headed to his office. I saw Andrea look up in surprise and stand. I continued to walk and said, "Andrea, I am here to see my husband." I walked right through the doors, despite her protests.

It did not occur to me until later that I had barged into a meeting. My eyes were only for Christian. When I saw him, pure white, hot rage filled me. I went half-crazy. Christian looked up with surprise, annoyance and then anger.

"Ana," he coolly acknowledged me. "We're in the middle of a-"

"God, I don't fucking care." I said, the words coming out fast and hard. "I just want a tiny confirmation from you. Just reply with a simple yes or no. Can you do that?" I repeated the line he had sarcastically delivered to me all these years. Christian looked at me with disbelief. I had not willingly spoken to him in years. I had not defied him like this since Ted's birth.

He quickly gathered his wits, though, and said angrily, "Ana, now is not the-"

"Oh, It is." I gave a hollow laugh. "There is no better time than now. But since you are so unconcerned about our marriage, I will make this quick, okay? Where do I start?" I pretended to think. Then I gave the expression of a person who had just been presented with all the candy in the world. "Ah, yes! I was walking through your study, when an email arrived from a Shellie Hale." I saw him flinch. Encouraged, I went on. "I would rather be fucking you, baby. What is it with your wife? Why can't she just leave you alone?" I mimicked in a high pitched voice. I let him squirm for a few seconds.

I took a few steps towards him and asked in a really calm voice. "So, my question to you is, are you having an affair with another woman?"

Christian stood up angrily. "Ana, get out, now. We'll talk about this later, at home."

"Home?" I cast a despairing look at him. "That Guantanamo Bay stopped being home and four year ago!" I shouted angrily. He looked taken aback. "Yes or no, Christian? It's rather simple, really - just a syllable." I said with a strange hard quality in my voice, giving him a penetrating gaze. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Look, Ana-" He began guiltily. I took another step towards him. He stopped talking.

"I will take that as a yes, you son of a bitch," I whispered. With all the energy I possessed, I lifted my hand and smacked him right across the face. For the first time, I looked around and saw many an amused and shocked glance directed at me. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Forgive me for this interruption. You may continue your meeting peacefully, now. That is, if you can bear to be in the same room as him."

With that, I strode out of his room and ran down the stairs. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks. I was devastated. He could have just told me that I wasn't enough for him. He could've just put me out of his life instead of grabbing my heart, caressing it, soothing it, then squeezing the life out of it. I darted to the car and climbed in. "To the Airport, Sawyer." I sniffled. Then I remembered Ted. I gasped.

"Mrs Grey?" Sawyer asked, worriedly.

"Ask Ryan to meet us at the airport with my son." I told him in a wobbly voice.

"Yes, Ma'am."

I resigned to my fate slowly and decided to face the future and never look back. I came to terms with the fact that I was alone, free and independent again. I could do anything in the world now. I could be my own person. I could feel the determination overcoming me. My spine straightened. My face was devoid of any emotion. I literally shrugged to put all my miseries behind me. A new chapter in my life had just begun and this time, I was not going to let any opportunity slip through my fingers.


	3. Headlines Today

**IT'S SPLITSVILLE FOR THE GREYS!**

Seattle, Washington: One of the country's most dazzling and favourite couples, Christian and Anastasia Grey are getting divorced, bringing a smile on the faces of millions of women. The press is hugely disappointed - the reason for the divorce has not been disclosed. When the divorcees' kith and kin were questioned, they expressed their agitation at being in the dark about the reason too. Gold digging men may rest without much agitation as sources say that the now Ms Anastasia Steele has refused to take a penny extra than what she entered the marriage with (which is actually not much) in the divorce settlement. Unfortunately for the society, they declined to host a divorce party. The son, Theodore Grey rests in the sole and able custody of Ms Steele.

 **SHE WENT WEST YOUNG MAN!**

Tacoma, WA: Ms Anastasia Steele, the former Mrs. Christian Grey, has purchased a very expensive piece of real estate in Tacoma, WA. It has been reported that the lovely and talented Ms. Steele has acquired Haddaway Hall for a paltry sum of 5.5 million dollars. This 52 room, 3-story Jacobethan Mansion was built in 1923 by John and Anne Weyerhaeuser. It sits on 5.97 acres overlooking Puget Sound, Vashon Island, and the Cascade Mountains. Looks like Ms. Steele is putting down some serious roots in Tacoma!

 **PATERNAL STREAK IN RUTHLESS ENTRERENEUR?**

Seattle, WA: Recently divorced Christian Grey was spotted in his yatch, The Grace, with his son Theodore, a splitting image of his handsome father. The pair seemed to be spending a happy and relaxed time with each other, content that mama bear had seen it fit to allow her son to spend time with his father. Rumour has it that Mr Grey invited Ms Steele for the day out and for supper but she succinctly declined the generous invitation. Mr Grey's loving gestures gave hope to his employees that he might possess a heart after all…

 **SEATTLE BUSINESS TYCOON'S EX TAKES OVER SEA-TAC PUBLISHING**

Tacoma, WA: The recently divorced ex-wife of one of the country's most eligible bachelors, Christian Grey, apparently has some entrepreneurial tricks up her sleeve. Within 8 months, Anastasia Steele has managed to reach the board of directors of Sea-Tac Publishing, one of the country's best publishing companies and has stealthily taken over the company. Since her coming to a senior position, the company has thrived under her careful, motherly hands.

 **ANASTASIA 'SHARK' STEELE**

Tacoma, WA: Looks like animal nicknames have become the in-thing in the celeb-world. After the famous rapper's re-baptising last week as the 'viper', Ms Anastasia Steele has been dubbed by the business community as 'The Shark'. "When she bears those razor sharp teeth of hers, people get scared. But she doesn't scare, the damned woman. She bites into the poor, unsuspecting victim and chews on him until he acquiesces to her demands." A reliable source said who, for obvious reasons, did not want to be named. She has turned into quite the carnivore, hasn't she

 **MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS NOT RESTRICTED TO GREY**

Tacoma, WA: Ms Anastasia Steele is giving Christian Grey a run for his money through her vengeful streak of acquisitions, rapid decision making and ruthless slaughtering of companies by her hard-hearted CEO self. So far, Ms Steele has managed to expand her company by buying out 6 top notch publishing companies of the United States and Europe. Sources say that Ms Steele is planning a takeover of Grey Publishing. Watch it, Ms Steele, and don't make the same mistake as Icarus.

 **SHE HAS DONE IT!**

Tacoma, WA: Former Mrs Anastasia Grey has viciously taken over the failing company, Grey Publishing. Word is that Mr Grey didn't let go of his company without a stiff battle, but the adamant Ms Steele refused to increase a penny in the negotiation. The shark has struck again, revealing her ruthless, razor sharp teeth to the man who some say taught her the game.

 **ANASTASIA STEELE LISTED IN TIMES 100 MOST INFLUENTIAL WOMEN**

Tacoma, WA: It doesn't come as a surprise to anyone that Anastasia Steele, newly emerged business tycoon ranks 28 in Times 100 most influential women. Within the span of two years, she has managed to bring her publishing company to rank number one in the world. She has also expanded her business to various fields which are all ranked in admirable positions. She is officially the 8th richest person in the United States. With such an inspiring personality, who better is suited to proudly sit on that famed list? Congratulations, Ms Steele.


	4. Oh, Tedster!

"Stella!" I barked into the intercom. "Hand over the documents for the Johnson acquisition!" The assistant squeaked once and replied with a "Yes, Ma'am". The little red-head scurried into my office after knocking and then placed the requested paperwork before me. She stepped back and waited for further instructions.

"That will be all, Stella." I said not even looking at the girl. She left the room silently. I groaned at the amount of work there was to complete, the number of deadlines to meet. Of course, all the deadlines were self-made, but I was obligated to meet those dates on time in order to expand my empire. I was in negotiations to buy a major share of a well-known sports line, and this company's heads were proving to be difficult. I smiled to myself knowing that with one meeting with me that all the "difficulties" would disappear. No one wanted to cross 'The Shark'.

In the last few years, I had cultivated my business persona as a ruthless beast who was not afraid to strike first blood and took no prisoners. I attacked my unsuspecting victims with stealth and went for the slow torturous kill, making them beg for mercy and submit to my wants. I left them with jelly knees and sweaty faces. One glare from me would silence the entire room and send the most-hardened businessmen into hiding. Even I didn't understand where this side of my personality emanated from, but the moment I regained my independence and control over my life, this new persona, the shark, came to the surface.

During this period of my life where I was on my own, my subconscious played a big role. My inner goddess, on the other hand, was dead and buried for all I cared. I didn't have time for men, relationships or even sex. All I wanted was financial security, a stable life for my son and me, and to prove to all the naysayers that I was more than capable to play in the big leagues, more than capable of doing every single thing they did much better than themselves. The only time the inner goddess stirred in the deeply buried coffin of denial was when I thought about the man who I still loved, much to my hatred. No matter how hard I tried to deny my feelings for my ex-husband, I still couldn't deny that I was in love with the bastard. Sitting at my desk with the Johnson paperwork clutched in my hands, I remembered the last time I was in the same room as Christian Grey…

 _Three Years Ago-2017_

 _I was on a tight schedule. I flew to Seattle in the Steele Enterprises Inc. helicopter and was to return the same day with Ted who was visiting his father. I didn't carry anything on my person, lest I use that to cause grievous bodily injuries to the man who had given me nothing but heartache and sleepless nights. I was still furious and there was no way in hell I could keep a calm façade in front of him. I reached Grey House. The moment I entered the building, a hush fell over the expansive space. Slowly the whispers and murmurs began. The last time I had come to GEH, I had caused such havoc that the incident had resulted in the firing of four people._

 _"_ _Don't you people have work to do? If you worked for me, you would find yourself out the door with a pink slip shoved up your asses!" I snapped with irritation. My irritation escalated with each step I took towards the elevators. I rose up through the building to his floor. Andrea looked up as I stepped off the elevator and gasped. The last time I had appeared without any announcement, Andrea must have nearly lost her job, if I knew anything of Grey. As I walked towards the office without a word to Andrea, the door opened revealing Ros Bailey who was visibly shocked to see me, the shark herself. Our last meeting was when I wanted to buy out Grey Publishing and Ros had suffered through the Shark treatment. We nodded at each other and Ros excused herself._

 _"_ _Andrea." I finally said, remembering that I did have manners and no matter what, I had no right to treat Andrea with disrespect. "I am here to see Mr. Grey." Andrea flushed with embarrassment because she didn't know exactly what to do._

 _"_ _Mrs Grey… uh… Mr Grey has…that is to say…" The door opened once again and Christian stepped out with a look of disbelief on his face. He had heard my voice, but seemed as if he didn't believe his own senses._

 _"_ _Ana?" He breathed, still not trusting his eyesight. I shot him such a hateful look that made him step back._

 _"_ _That is Ms Steele to you, Grey." I snapped. "You lost the pleasure of addressing me by my given name the moment you fucked that whore." My voice was low and menacing, my piercing glares slicing him to the quick. He took another step back._

 _"_ _Come in." He said with his head bent. I walked past him and entered the office with my back stiff, my head up with confidence. Christian closed the door behind them._

 _"_ _You were served the papers weeks ago. Why did you not sign them?" I asked turning on him. He frowned at me._

 _"_ _Isn't it obvious?" He asked. "I do not want a divorce, Ana. I want a chance to explain things to you, to make things right!"He said earnestly. I threw her head back and laughed shrilly which made even my blood run ice cold. The hostility was so unlike me and he probably hadn't expected this new Ana._

 _"_ _Explain!" I gasped still laughing. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you! What is there to explain? You found yourself a little brown-haired girl and fucked her, forgetting that you had already married a brown-haired girl!"I immediately stopped laughing, with a curious look. "Tell me, why go for a brunette when you already had one? You got bored or something? I have always been curious."_

 _"_ _Anastasia." He said coldly. "Stop that. We are here to discuss-"_

 _"_ _WE are not here to discuss ANYTHING!" I shouted maniacally at him. "I DON'T want to discuss your so-called reasoning for being a lying, cheating, abusive bastard! I came to Seattle to get my son and to get you to sign those damned papers for the final hearing. You are signing those papers and I'm heading back home." I told him in a calmer voice than earlier. But it still gave promise of danger. Christian blinked his eyes twice as if unable to believe that that his wife could be so cold and distant._

 _"_ _Ana, please listen to me. It was a mist-"_

 _"_ _Damn right, it was. But if you dare to complete that sentence, I will not be held responsible for my actions." He looked downright frustrated now, unused to being cut off and defied at every turn. Of course he was frustrated - he was not in control of this conversation._

 _"_ _You are going to agree to this divorce, Christian. I have no intention of patching anything up. No matter what you say or what excuses you give or how hard you try, I will not go back to that life. I will not run willingly into your arms and forgive you for betraying me just because you apologise. Haven't you heard that when a person in a relationship no longer wants it, she's the one with all the power? Don't ever expect a reconciliation to happen, and if you do, you are more arrogant than what I originally thought you were. Sign the damn papers, Christian and do it quick. I have no wish to spend any more time with you than I have to!" He was dumbfounded. I took advantage of his temporary loss of wits. I rummaged through my over-sized bag and shoved the papers into his hands. "I'm giving you thirty minutes to go through it." I said almost graciously._

 _As if in a daze, Christian turned the pages and read through the documents as he paced back and forth in front of me. His shocked face turned to anger. "What the fuck, Ana? I am not giving you full custody of my-"_

 _"_ _Ted is my son. I carried him for nine months; I birthed him and nursed him. I was the one who bathed and diapered him and looked after him while you were out running your empire and fucking your whores. I forfeited my career for him to make you happy. Just depositing your seed inside me does not make you the father-of-the-year!" I took a deep breath to stay a headache that was threatening to plague me. "I do know that you love him, and you do spend enough time with him to make him happy - and all that will continue. I will not keep him from you or the families, but heaven forbid I leave him in your care and have him exposed to your lifestyle! No child should experience that."_

 _Christian could not find the words to speak coherently. He could tell that his time with me was limited. He was confused by his own feelings. He was angry with me for my obstinacy. He was saddened that I wanted free of him and he was stunned at my actions – coming to his own office and making demands as if I owned the world. He began the pacing again as he read more of my demands and they seriously disturbed him. I could tell all of this with certainty – I knew him better than himself. "You can't seriously think that I won't provide for you and my son?" He said, appalled by those clauses that stated that I did not want a dime from him._

 _"_ _Listen, you asshole." I hissed. "I am tired of just looking at your stupid face. I am not taking a penny from you and have you believe that you own my successes. I don't want your assets. I want nothing from you but my freedom, my peace of mind, and my son. For Ted's benefit, I have swallowed my pride and have allowed you to set up a trust fund for him. I am only going to say this one last time, Mr Grey, sign the damn papers now or I swear I will move heaven and hell to destroy everything you built, everything you have, and I will make you sorry that you ever met me!" I took a deep breath after my tirade, feeling very proud of myself. I knew he did not respond well to threats and I was waiting for his response. I dared him to retaliate. To my utmost astonishment he turned to his desk, lifted his very expensive pen from its stand and began signing each sheet where it was required. As he handed the papers over to me, he looked down at his feet._

 _"_ _What will you tell Ted?" He asked, his voice breaking in the end, betraying his grief. I cared two hoots for his misery._

 _"_ _He knows we are separated and that the divorce is imminent. I have assured him that he will have access to you and our families. He understands quite well for his age." My voice trailed off as I thought of my son and the grief that he would undergo because of the divorce. Even though I loved my son and would do anything for him, I could not stay in a marriage with a man I could no longer trust. I saw the pool of tears well up in his beautiful grey eyes that used to look at me with love and devotion._

 _Well, tough luck. He caused all of this pain, all this humiliation, all because of his selfish needs. He should have thought of this moment before he plunged his big cock into the pussy of Shellie Hale. I refused to feel anything for him as I turned towards the door. I stopped as my hand grabbed the door handle. I did not turn around to look at him. "Remember. You have access to Ted and Ted only. You are dead to me, Christian. You do not exist to me. You will communicate with me only through Falcon or my lawyers." I stepped out of his office with the signed papers and my freedom._

I jerked out of my reverie when my cell phone rang. I checked it to see a text message from Falcon aka Justin Moyers, the ex-CIA agent and Navy Seal who was now my Head of Security. I sighed heavily. My car was ready for me in the private parking garage to take me home. Falcon understood my need to always be home by five thirty and, between him and Stella, I stayed tight on the clock. I quickly shut down the computer, placed the paperwork in my briefcase, and left the office for the day.

The ride home was silent and I was left alone to my thoughts. I pitied Christian, I decided with an air of superiority. He threw away a good life for some short-lived pleasure. But, all that was in the past. My life had had to go on. I hadn't the luxury of sitting around bemoaning the end of our marriage. I had had a son to provide for and a new life to build, and that was what I had done. I had set a goal to become a mover and shaker in the publishing world.

My first job after the separation was as an Executive editor at Sea-Tac Publishing. Within months, I had invested in the company and moved up the ladder straight onto the board of directors and had taken over the company with very little resistance. I had faced a problem in the form of a grudging director who had until previously pulled all the strings, but it was very easy to drown out his protests since everybody wanted some growth in the company. I had used the proceeds of a series of books that I had penned under the name of 'Penny Late' to fund my first business deal. These titillating and scintillating romance novels had made me very wealthy indeed.

I would smile knowingly when the specs come across my desk about the best-selling trio of books that broke all sales records in the history of publishing. After taking over Sea-Tac Publishing, I founded Steele Enterprises Inc. which expanded my business interests. I moved into restaurants and hotels and the one jewel I had to have….Grey Publishing. It was rather easy to snatch it up since I had already lured away most of GP's executives. I had then gone after their writing talent. By the time I sat across the table from Ros Bailey, both of us already knew that I would walk out with my former company.

Now I was sitting comfortable in life. I had money, power, a social status of my own, and I had Ted. My greatest achievement was not my business sense, but a this boy who made me want to get up every morning and take on the world. All that I did was for him - to keep him safe, to give him a life full of promise and advantages. He was the reason that I bought Haddaway Hall. It was large enough for a young boy to run through and be safe. It had the swimming pool, tennis courts, and basketball courts that supported Ted's interests. It was large enough for the team of security that I surrounded myself with. As my empire grew, so did the threats of kidnapping and extortion. I paid for the finest and best security resources to keep my son and me safe. I smiled as I took a moment to pat myself on the back. I had built an empire larger than GEH and on a quicker timeline than my ex-husband had - and I had used my writing and business talents, rather than take start-up money from an aged paedophilic cougar.

Without a doubt, my son was one of the richest kids in the world, coming from two very rich parents. He attended one of the expensive and private schools in the country even though he was only going on eight years of age. He participated in one of the swim teams, played for one of the basketball teams and tennis teams that the school offered. All sports were intramural activities so Ted never had to be transported from one sports avenue to another and cause a security nightmare. I knew that my son was happy and safe. Happy in all aspects except one, but so far he had never asked me about that subject. I was a little relieved that I did not have to explain to my son the reasons behind the divorce.

Even though I had all of this, I was aware of the fact that something was missing from life. Happiness… the happiness and security of family that had been stolen away from me was what I sorely missed from my previous life. I had not contacted either side of the family. I was alone in this world I had made, barring Ted and Falcon. Stella, the housekeeper, Joanne, and the au pair, Miss Reba were also a part of this life, but they were not exactly friends, just employees.

But I had long ago resolved to not form any friendships. Since the divorce, I found it hard to trust people in general. That was one reason why I did not reach out to my family or to Christian's. I didn't know if I could trust them. I couldn't stand the thought of answering all the questions that they would have for me either. I could not, would not answer those questions. I had no idea what Christian had told them regarding the divorce, but I couldn't stand the thought of facing them and feeling that I had failed to make my marriage work. After all this time, the sting of humiliation and inferiority still squeezed at my heart. After all that we had gone through together, I was still not enough for the great Christian Grey and his needs.

Even though I refused contact with our families, I did not keep Ted from them. He was given time to bond with them and spent every third weekend in Seattle with Christian. He adored his Grandpa Ray who would take him fishing. Uncle Elliot was the bad influence with practical jokes. Aunt Kate and Aunt Mia showered him with gifts and clothing and he enjoyed playing with his cousin, Ava, who was just a year younger to him. Grandpa Carrick took him to Mariner's games and let him eat all the hot dogs he wanted. However, Ted's two favourite people were his Grandma Grace and of course, his Dad. Ted saw his Grandma Carla twice a year, on his birthday and that busy time between Thanksgiving and Christmas. She would fly to Seattle to help Grace plan and host one of the two birthday parties that he had every year.

I used to listen to him excitedly chirp about all of them, how 'awesome' this person was or how funny that person. I couldn't bear to even think of my ex-family – I loved them all and not talking to them had made me an emotional cripple.

Correspondence was very frequent with the use of Skype. Ted talked to his family anytime he wanted and he spoke to his father every day, no matter where in the world Christian was. There were times when their conversation came was about to wrap up when Christian would ask, "Is your mother around?" Ted would reply in the affirmative excitedly.

Christian would then ask, "Will you ask her to come?" and Ted would come running to me.

"Mom, Dad is online! Do you want to talk to him?" He would ask with that doe-like, innocent and hopeful expression. My throat would usually constrict at this point and I would get all choked up. I wouldn't even look at him when I replied, "No, not now, Ted. Maybe some other time when I don't have a ton of paperwork…."

I knew this broke Ted's heart. He would run back to the computer with tears in his eyes and would choke out with intermittent sobs that I was too busy. Christian, with false cheeriness, would reply, "That's okay, Tedster. She is a businesswoman. Maybe next time, eh, Bud?"

After these incidents, it would take me most of the night to get Ted to talk to me. As Ted got older, the hours turned to days, and I eventually had had enough. I sent word to Christian through my lawyers not to ask Ted about me or to ask to speak to me because it upset our son. Not wanting to hurt his child, Christian relented and stopped asking Ted anything about me.

"Ma'am?" A strong and deep male voice brought me back from the past. I opened my eyes to see the car door open. Falcon's large hand extended out to me. "We are home."

"Yes, Falcon, I see that." I said with a tight smile. I gracefully exited the car and stood before the large wooden doors that led to her home.

"Is something wrong, Ma'am?" Falcon asked when I didn't start up the brick lined steps.

"First off, we are home, and no one is around, so stop calling me 'ma'am'. It makes me feel positively… old." I shuddered. "Secondly, well, I'm just tired. It's been a long day." They walked inside in silence. I dumped my briefcase on the floor and unwound herself on the plush beige couches in front of the huge plasma TV. "Joanne, get me a glass of whiskey, the eighty year old one, would you?" I said, closing my eyes. I heard Falcon approach. I opened them wearily again. He held six envelopes his hand.

"Three business conferences, two award functions, one environmental meet. Mr Grey is on the guest list of the award functions and one of the business conferences." He informed me.

I opened the envelopes and went through all of them. Sighing, I said, "Cancel the conference and send my apologies for the award functions. You go in my stead for those two. Accept everything else. Check three for the environmental meet. I am taking Theo with me for that one."

"Yes Ma'am." Said Falcon and exited the room. I sighed again. How much longer did I have to continue in hiding? I shook my head once again as if shaking off all the depressing thoughts. I spent the rest of the day immersing myself in my work again, until Ted returned home. At about 7 in the evening, I closed my shop. I took a moment to breath away from the universe of business. After a while, I realised that Ted hadn't come to greet me like every day.

Frowning, I headed upstairs to his room. I knocked on the door. "Theo? Are there?" I asked gently.

"Don't come in!" he said in a shaky voice. I became worried now.

"Ted, what's wrong?" I asked anxiously.

"It's nothing. Go away." I heard his muffled voice say.

I stood there for a couple of seconds and then ran downstairs to Falcon. "Falcon, call Blake here, stat. I need to talk to him." Blake was Ted's bodyguard + driver + caretaker person. Blake arrived on the scene.

"Ma'am?" he said timidly.

"Blake, what's wrong with my son?" I demanded. I saw Blake flinch.

"Err… he uh... asked me not to tell you Ma'am." He replied, beginning to feel a little scared.

"Tell me something, Blake. Who pays your salary?" I asked in a dangerously soft voice.

"You, Ma'am." He mumbled.

"So whom do you answer to?"

"You, Ma'am."

"Now tell me, Blake." I said. "What happened to my son?"

"He… was playing tennis when his father called him, Ma'am. His father spoke to him for quite some time. He seemed upset after that although the conversation was quite animated. He stopped playing and sat down simply looking at nowhere. Then he began playing again when he fell and… he… um… sprained his leg. He didn't want to worry you, which is why I didn't tell you." Blake said the last two sentences really fast.

I frowned. My son was crying about a sprain? That couldn't be true. I went upstairs and opened the door. What had his damned father done this time?

Ted looked up in surprise through his tear stained face. He was clutching at his ankle. He immediately let go and wiped his face. "You weren't supposed to come in." He muttered.

"Well, I can't just sit still when my boy is crying, can I?" I said, smiling softly. I sat on his bed and caressed his face. He buried his head in my chest as I stroked his head.

"What's wrong, baby boy?" I asked gently. "What did Dad tell you on phone?" He shook his head.

"Dad didn't say anything. We just fixed up a date for riding on Charlie Tango. Then I asked him whether you could come but he said that you wouldn't. I told him that I would ask you later." The two of us remained silent for some time. Then, he asked, "Mom, why do you not talk to dad anymore?"

I did a double take. I had not expected this question from him this soon. Just earlier I was thanking my good fortune that he hadn't. I thought he would steer clear of that topic. Some part of my brain had hoped he wouldn't notice it. But who was I kidding? He was Christian Grey's son. Of course he would notice. I swallowed once, thinking of an appropriate response.

"Is that why you're crying, because I don't talk to your father anymore?" I said, evasively. He shook his head.

"It's because I don't get to see my family together anymore." He said. The blood chilled in my veins. I could predict the next words coming out of his mouth. I wanted to stop him, but I was incapacitated by fear. A part of me had a masochistic need to hear him out and go through with whatever he would ask.

"Mom, can we go together to Seattle for my birthday?" I abruptly let go of him, the very thought making me want to scream. He looked hurt as he leaned back and looked at my scared face. I slowly stood up and walked out of the room. I locked myself up in mine. I drew all the curtains, switched off all the lights and sat on my bed, tucking my head between my knees. I rocked back and forth, thinking.

On one hand, I was deathly scared of facing my family. My previous fears arose, imagining their reactions on seeing me. I wondered whether they would be embarrassed and apologise on Christian's behalf or whether they would treat me like a guest, whether they would mock at my incapacity or pity me. I shuddered to think about any option.

On the other hand, I had never denied Ted anything, in his entire life. It wasn't that I had pampered him, but that he deserved them. He was the dream child that every mother hoped for. I couldn't deny him this simple wish because of my stupid fears. You know you're going to do it. You're going to say yes to him. Why bother with the mental conflict? My subconscious told me kindly. After minutes of coming to terms with my decision, I unlocked my door and stepped out. I went downstairs to set the table as Miss Reba was about to serve food. Hearing the noisy clatter of dishes and other utensils, Ted ventured towards the kitchen.

(TPOV)

He was sorry that he had brought it up. But he was really confused. He had no idea why his parents had divorced, but he'd never once asked either of them. He missed seeing his entire family together, and hated the tension whenever he mentioned his mother in front of them. But he now realised that he couldn't afford to be selfish. He had to be a little sensitive to whatever his mother was feeling. He peered at her from behind the wall. She wore a stoic I am going to kill everyone who does a bad job during my watch look, one he had only seen her wear at Steele Enterprises. He was scared, now. He had seen his mother make her employees shiver with fright, and he never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

(APOV)

"Mom?" he said, slowly coming into view. My face softened as I saw him. Before he could say anything, I bent down and hugged the life out of him.

"I'm sorry." I whispered. "I never knew you felt that way. But if that's what you want, you can have it. We'll celebrate your birthday with everyone, your entire family."

"Really? You'll actually do that for me?!" he asked, his eyes shining with hope.

"Anything," I vowed. "I'll do anything for you."


	5. And the Worst Reunion Award Goes To

It was the day of the award ceremony. I had informed Falcon to accept their invitation after Ted's request. It was the first time since two years that I was seeing him. Christian Grey. I had refused to even look at his photographs in the news. I had exterminated him from my life. I was finally going to interact with him. My feet turned into jelly every time I thought of him, the good parts of the early years of our marriage. I wondered how I would actually be in his presence. I wondered about his reaction. So far, I had declined all the invites to the events to which Christian had been attending.

Although he would be the only man I would ever love, I found it near impossible to forgive him for all the atrocious acts of his. That was the only reason why I wasn't running back to him. Then there was the other dark secret of mine – the result of these atrocities. The nightmares.

That evening, I called in beauticians from a salon chain I owned and my personal shopper to attend to my external appearance. They did their job and I was prepared to leave. I waited for Ted to come home. When he did, he stopped when he saw me.

"Why on earth do you have black paint on your face?" He asked, looking adorably disgusted, if that was even possible. I laughed.

"You don't worry about that. I need to go to an award function tonight, so I'll be home late, okay? Probably early in the morning tomorrow. I need to drive back and forth for a long time." I told him. I instructed Miss Reba to make dinner for only Ted and ordered Joanne to have him in bed by eight thirty. I told him that I had to leave, pecked him on the cheek, asked him to be careful and do everything Blake said and left.

It was four in the afternoon. I climbed into my M3 in the back. I was accompanied by my personal security - Falcon, Brandon and Stuart. We began the two hour ride in solitude. I managed to complete all the work that I was going to miss out on during the journey. We directly went to a hotel I owned there and occupied the penthouse. I rested for a while. At around 5.15, we left the hotel in the car and reached our destination.

Falcon climbed out and opened the door. I sighed. This was going to be a long evening. The moment I got out of the car, I could hear thousands of clicks around me and thousands of reporters asking questions. I ignored them all and placed a regal, stoic look on my face that I had perfected through the years. Falcon and Brandon made way for me through the ocean of reporters. As I went past them, I heard two things at once – A deep sexy voice muttering, "Bloody press"; and a reporter looking into the camera and saying, "This is shocking news! Recently divorced celeb-couple, Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey can now be seen entering the Business Awards! The pair has not been seen together since their divorce. Sources…"

I froze in my way. I heard Brandon murmur, "Ms Steele?"

(CPOV)

As soon as the reporter said that, I looked behind me, to see whether Ana was actually there. Taylor tapped my shoulders and gestured towards the front. I saw the back of a stunning woman in a glittery red dress with a deep 'v' in the back, the bottom part cut diagonally from her mid-thigh to her feet. Her hair was curled in elaborate curls and they hung across her shoulders almost carelessly. Slowly, I realised I wasn't moving, and neither was she. The press, a part of me noted, was eating this all up. The woman slowly turned and I gasped inaudibly as I saw how much more beautiful she was in real life than on the news or the papers. Her expression had an aristocratic bearing and it seemed to harden at my sight. My heart sank. This squashed all my momentarily inflated hopes. She nodded curtly, "Mr Grey," she said.

My heart dropped 20 miles into the ground as she spoke to me the first time in three years. I was distraught – she hadn't called me by my first name. I was aware of my awestruck expression, but I didn't care. It showed the truth, after all. Taylor nudged me. I was shaken back to reality. I nodded back. "Ms Steele. I can't tell you-" at that dratted moment, her phone began to ring in the customary iPhone tune.

"Excuse me," she murmured and answered the call, still fixing her gaze on mine. The next second, her expression held shock. I was alarmed. What was wrong?

"Ted?!" she exclaimed disbelievingly.

(APOV)

I slowly turned, not wanting to believe my assumption. There stood the father of my child, Greek God incarnate, Emperor of a self-built empire, in all his uber-handsome glory, Christian Grey. For one moment, I forgot all about my anger, and indulged my celibate self. Like a starving woman, I began to feed my eyes to the wondrous sight to its fullest when I remembered where I was. Save it for later, Steele. Don't lose it now. I pulled my long – repressed emotions together and brought about a stoic expression. Christian was looking at me with… wonder? Maybe I did look ravishing. I nodded at him saying, "Mr Grey." In the frostiest tone I could muster. He didn't respond immediately.

Then, he too nodded and said, "Ms Steele-" and began saying something when my phone rang. I answered the call.

"Mom!"

"Ted?!"

"I can see you on TV! I can see dad too! You're talking to dad! Oh, mom, you're looking so stuffy and serious! Smile! You're on TV!" yelled my eight year old son. I felt all the tension in me dissipate as a bubble of laughter threatened to exit my mouth. This was plain hilarious. I managed a wry smile.

"Sweetie, haven't I told you not to disturb me when I go out dressed?" I said, smiling still.

"You did, but you're smiling! This is so cool! Can I talk to dad?" said my over-enthusiastic boy. I could see Christian stifling a laugh. I grinned for Ted's sake.

"Not now, Theo. I have to go now. Take care, okay? Listen to Blake and don't get into trouble." I told him and ended the call.

(CPOV)

I saw her smile… and even if it wasn't because of me, I was happy to see her smile. None of her photos or footages contained any hint that the woman in front of me was capable of smiling. Any time an interviewer cracked a joke, she'd give them a frigid look and deliver a comment which would leave them floundering for an opportunity to continue the interview. Even I got scared sometimes when I saw that look. That's when I realised why they called her the shark. Now, I was in the receiving end of it, as she cut the call.

She looked as though she was about to say something when one of her lackeys leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, turned and left. A spark of jealousy over their intimacy shot through me. She's not yours anymore, reminded a voice in my head. Cursing, I followed her inside, my eyes only for her. "Sir, we're in a public event which is being televised," muttered Taylor, "I know she looks irresistible and I can't stop staring at her too. You've got to get a grip."

Disgruntled, I went inside the main hall and saw that my table was adjacent to the one where 'Steele' was marked. I wanted to jump up, shout and do a dance routine at the same time. Somehow, that woman had reduced me into a teenager again.

I saw her talking to a billionaire in the field of software. He held her hand, lifted it and kissed the back of it, maintaining eye contact. I emitted a low growl. She gave a distant smile, to my satisfaction. I saw them making a low conversation and then take leave of one another. Falcon, I think, sat next to Ana and Brandon and the other guy stood far off where all the other security personnel stood. I inhaled deeply, to control my turbulent emotions. I looked at her and said, "Ms Steele," she turned towards me. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you at this event. I can't believe it has been two years. You look more beautiful than ever." She flinched and her lower lip trembled like it used to whenever she was upset. Shit, I thought, what have you done now?

"Thank you." She said in a tight, controlled voice, "After being trampled all over for four years, I have worked hard to regain my beauty." She said bitterly. I had just been sharked. She immediately looked away, sparing me from further embarrassment.

"Sir, I suggest that you should not talk to her until she initiates the conversation. All these years, she has avoided all the social functions that you were supposed to be attending. For her to appear suddenly indicates that she must have a reason to come here today." Taylor advised me. I grunted in reluctant agreement.

(APOV)

Bitterly regretting my thoughtless words, I sat trying to form words to tell him of Ted's wish. The program began then. I paid little attention to the joker of a host, Richard. I observed that he made a snide comment about the two of us making our first public appearance or something of that sort. I bristled. So this smart ass thought that he could get away from the shark at a public gathering? Think again, pretty boy. Challenge accepted.

They called me on for the 4th award, the Green Award, for being the most environmentally friendly company. I went up on stage and gave the presenters a tiny, inscrutable smile and thanked them. I gave my usual practiced speech after which a leaned towards Richard and mock – whispered, "You know the divorced can be extremely vengeful towards wise-ass presenters? You better watch what you say, Rick." There was a stunned silence in the hall. I winked at him with a generous smile and said, "Sweetheart, don't look so scared. I had to keep up with my sharky reputation, after all." I then heard a few nervous laughs after which everyone including Richard joined in as I seated myself once again.

Falcon smirked, "Front page again, Ma'am." I took out my phone to check the internet. A few gossip pages had already posted the news.

"I was getting annoyed by that prick." I said. I went up the stage for another award for maximum growth percentage. This time, Richard's face held a strained smile. I winked at him once more and exited the stage. I didn't look at Christian again for the rest of the time. At some point, I got bored by the program. I decided that I was ready to face Christian in a verbal combat again. I turned to him and found him looking at me unabashedly.

"Theodore wants to celebrate his thirteenth birthday with all of his family. I was thinking that Seattle would be convenient for all of you. So where do we hold it?" I asked him, detachedly. If I put passion in my words, I would start crying. Stoic was what helped me maintain my composure. Christian did a double take as I spoke a sane sentence to him, but recovered quickly.

"My place, of course." He said, with that arrogant tone of his.

"You must be fucking kidding me." I barked a sarcastic laugh. He face fell.

"Grace and Carrick's, then." He said, decidedly. I nodded in agreement.

"Send me a bill of all the expenses, and I'll write you a cheque." I told him. He looked taken aback and offended.

"Ms Steele, you may be the eighth richest person in the country but I would spare no expense in keeping him happy, and I would still be rich." He said with a bruised ego. I looked at him with a falsetto knowing look.

"Oh, like how you spared no expense with keeping your own wife happy for five years? Right." I chuckled. He looked dumbstruck. He opened his mouth to say something when I cut him short.

"Mr Grey, how about I save your mouth from being soiled by your foot and we decide to go Dutch? You send me a bill for half the amount and we'll end the conversation at that." I said, a little kindly. Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Don't worry. I'll make it the grandest birthday he'll ever have." He said earnestly. I laughed shortly.

"Oh, I'm sure you know a lot about grand gestures. Like the one where you led your wife to find out that he had to run to another woman to tell his sob story about her to." I glared at him with a sense of finality and turned away, not able to withstand the conversation any longer without bursting into tears.

(CPOV)

"Damn," said Taylor in awe and amazement, as I just got mutilated by the shark, "I wish I could talk like that!" I could find no suitable reply. I watched as she stood up, excusing herself and left the room, Falcon following her. Her other two guards left the room too and I didn't see her until Ted's birthday celebration.


	6. Meet the Family

Two weeks had passed since I'd last seen Christian. Throughout these two weeks, Ted continued to gain reassurances from me that I would really, truly drive to Seattle with him on his birthday. He looked uncertain each time I said that. I knew that he would believe me only when he would see me around Christian and his family.

Finally, Joanne, the housekeeper for all intents and purposes, packed both our suitcases and we were ready. Ted was ready to have a blast at his dad's house along with every single person related to him. I, on the other hand, was prepared to face a storm that was brewing ahead of me. I was terrified of the prospect of meeting my parents, Christian's parents, Christian's siblings and their possibly angry spouses. I, the owner of one of the country's most successful companies, I who led thousands of people and had inspired millions across the world, who scared anyone, regardless of stature, out of their wits, was scared of meeting my relatives of all people. The irony wasn't lost on me.

My son and I drove in one of our cars. For almost half the time of our journey, a super excited Ted kept jumping in his seat and recited all of Ava's antics, all of Grandpa Ray's shooting techniques, Grandma Carla's delicious treats, Uncle Elliot's various jokes, Grandma Grace's medical instruments' names, and the names of Grandpa Carrick's horses. It was a bittersweet happiness that I experienced, watching him. I was happy that he was happy, but it pained me to hear about the people I loved, whose memories I had struggled to suppress over the past two years.

Finally, the boy was drained of all of his energy. He dozed off to sleep, resting his head on my lap. I looked out of the window, at the ominously grey clouds. Deep in thought about my upcoming encounter, I didn't notice Falcon turn around. He shoved a glass under my nose and said, "Cocktail, Ma'am?" I jumped with fright and shouted, "Jesus!"

He looked amused to see my reaction. "Christ, Falcon! Don't startle me like that!" I chastised him, annoyed.

"I didn't Ma'am. You were so absorbed in your contemplations that you didn't see me filling the glass." He told me, smiling a little. I sighed.

"Falcon, do me a favour. Something tells me that the shark is going to take over me in the next three days. When you see the signs, drag me away from that place, despite my protests. I'll be thankful later and I'll even double your salary if you want." I said earnestly. He laughed once.

"You don't need to increase my salary. I assure you, I'll do as you directed." He promised. Relieved, I took the cocktail and drank it up quickly.

Ted was still asleep when we reached the hotel. I scooped him up into my arms and let the others carry the luggage. I headed straight to the elevator. When the receptionist saw me, she instantly recognised me and said, "Welcome, Ms Steele. We have your room ready for you." The formalities were completed by the others. I placed Ted on the bed and covered him with a blanket. After feeling like I wasn't sticky and filthy anymore, I flopped on the sofa and took out my iPad. I told Falcon, "Call up Christian and ask him to send a car for Ted."

Utterly famished, but reluctant to sleep, I decided to immerse myself in work. There was a knob in my head which, when I turned it to 'work', would neutralise all my feelings and set them aside. I went about everything with clinical detachment. I called up Stella.

"Ms Steele," she answered the call.

"Stella." I said curtly, "What's the latest update?" A new acquisition was being made in Indonesia, and I wanted everything to go off without a hitch, all the permits and takeovers. I hated leaving everything here and flying over to a new country just to clear up a tiny misunderstanding.

"Ma'am, they are refusing to sell more than 16 per cent of their shares at the moment" I squeezed my eyes shut, and thought for a moment.

"Buy it, but not without negotiating. Put Danielle on it. If she can't handle it, then agree for the 16. We'll watch what happens next. There's little doubt that the company will fall into turmoil. I need half hourly updates" I ordered.

"Very good, Ma'am" Stella said quickly before I ended the call. I clicked on the browser and went to the stock exchange website. I called my broker up and sold a few thousand shares, making a profit of nearly quarter of a million dollars within two minutes. I loved playing in the exchange. It was exciting, like an adventure sport.

I received a call from Carl McKenzie, a board member of Steele Publishing. "Steele." I said, picking up the phone.

"Ms Steele,"His voice sounded strained. "Our contract with Ms James has expired and she's demanding double the amount for the renewal, Ma'am. I know money isn't an issue, but the sum she's asking for is downrightobscene. I-"

"Alright, Carl." I cut in. "I know you wouldn't call me unless the issue went right out of hand. Is she planning to sue us on some grounds?"

"Yes, Ma'am. There's a clause which states the increment of funds provided to her in the renewed deal, if the sales of her books crossed a given amount."

"Has it?"

"No. She is accusing us of leaking her work online and thereby making her incur a loss." He paused. "Ma'am, it's the year end, and we want to achieve 15 percent growth from last time. An unwanted law suit would be unpleasant." I considered the matter.

"Hold her off for two more days. Tell her that I myself will be flying over to meet her. I'll work it out. How're the employees' problems being managed? Any speed bumps?"

"That issue is buried, Ma'am. The Steele Enterprises management increased the pay for overtime across every sector." He replied.

"Keep me updated about the European contract. If they want to renegotiate, call me." I ordered. This was what I loved about myself, and what my employees loved about me. I looked into every trivial matter in each sector and paid attention to every detail, despite macro problems.

I called Falcon in. "Falcon, have the paparazzi got wind of this party yet?" I asked him, begging internally for him to say now. Falcon allowed himself a small smile. He took out his phone and showed me the gossip sites. I groaned. Our history rehashed, Ted's private life and Christian's private life was splayed all across those vile things.

"Damage control, Falcon. Maximise security. I don't want anybody crowded around Grace's house. You know the routine." Falcon nodded briefly and exited the room. I leaned back against the couch, my mind fully occupied by Indonesia. I gave a week's time for my having fifty percent stake of the company. I grinned.

Falcon knocked at my door and I bid him to enter. He extended his phone to me. "Mr Grey, Ma'am"

"Tell him I'm indisposed." I said, knowing very well that he could hear me say those words. "Take down any message from him." I then realised that an ominous event lay ahead of me. In a few blissful minutes, I had actually forgotten about the dangers lurking in the corner. Damn it. I heard Falcon mutter a few things into the phone and cut the call. I looked at him warily.

"Mr Grey wants to go through some of the arrangements of Master Ted's party. He requests your presence at his mother's place. I informed him that you didn't have any obligations for the rest of the day. You are expected there in the next fifteen minutes, Ma'am."

I glared at him, menacingly. "You are too comfortable with your position, aren't you?" I asked, wanting to mow him into the ground.

With complete seriousness, he said, "I'd hate to see a woman on the verge of taking over the world, hiding behind the skirts of a hotel, afraid to meet her own relatives. I had a solid reason to be working with you and I have no intention of letting that reason be untrue, Ma'am."

I gave him a long suffering look. "Et tu, Falcon?" I stood up, putting away my plaything and gestured for him to leave. As he closed the door, I muttered grumpily, "He's right, damn him."

Twenty minutes later, after much procrastination on my part and equally stubborn insistence on Falcon's part, I was headed towards Grace's place. What I was about to do finally hit me. How would they react? Would they welcome me back with open arms? Or would they put up a fuss for the no-contact thing? What on earth would they say? Passing my time worriedly staring out of the rain-streaked window, I realised with a start that we were there. Perdition was here. I sat there, not attempting to move. Falcon opened the door. Sulking, I got out, glaring at him.

I walked into the gates and to the door. My heart stopped momentarily, but I heaved a clichéd sigh of relief as I saw that it was only the butler. He took my coat and said, "They are upstairs, Ma'am"

My stomach began somersaulting. I was actually here, just a few steps away from my family. My heels clicked on the marble floor as I walked. I could hear the loud talk lower in volume and disperse into murmurs. I had a mild panic attack. What was I going to say? What was I going to do? I robotically climbed the stairs. The silence up there was deafening. The final steps made me feel like I was walking to the gallows. I stared at my feet as I finally conquered the last one. Sucking my breath in, trying to prolong this moment, I looked up hoping that disaster might not ensue. I suddenly lost the guts and turned around, climbing down again. I was at the landing when Falcon entered. He looked at me sternly. I looked heavenward once and climbed up again, totally unaware of what I was going to face.


	7. Jaws

Ten faces looked at me, each more comical than the other, under different circumstances. But now, I could find nothing remotely humorous about the situation. Neither party made first move. There was utter silence in the room. I? I didn't know what to say, didn't know how each of my words would be received. I was unaware of what was going on in their minds, but experience had taught me to read expressions and body language pretty accurately.

Carla looked at me with an inscrutable expression. When I met her eyes, her mask slipped. She was never one to hide anything. Underneath, I could see pain… infinite amount of pain. Ray looked at me with wonder, as if not really being able to believe that his daughter was actually here.

Mia was looking at me with a hurt expression; Ethan was flaunting a steely look. Carrick and Elliot wore identical looks of unmistakable anger. I exhaled unnoticeably, shakily. I rested my eyes upon Grace and the only thing I felt was confusion. Her chest was heaving with alarmingly escalating speed. Her arms were folded across her chest. Her hostility surprised me. Negative vibes were reaching me with rapid intensity. Jesus, I thought, taken aback. If looks could kill…

Her face held anger, rage and a determined look… for killing me, I supposed. I felt that she would like nothing better than an opportunity to use me as her punching bag. I mentally braced myself to face Kate. I turned to her and was met with a cold, detached, distant look. She was gazing at me as if I was an exquisite creature that she had never seen in her entire life.

I was bowled over. I had anticipated various scenarios and this was not one of them. I kept an impassive expression fixed on my face throughout my scrutiny, unwilling for anyone to subject me to their scrutiny. My heart sank. Blood rushed to my face and my stomach plummeted. Suddenly, I wanted to throw up. I wanted to run away from this room and never look back. I was disheartened, depressed and angry by my reception. Their faces all had an accusing look, as if I was the villain in the situation.

I did not want to go through with anything they had to say. I just wanted to get this over with. I had no wish to bring out my buddy, the shark on my own people. I decided I would remain impassive and ignorant to their obvious consternation. "Let's get along with the plan, shall we?" I said, giving a blank and questioning look to everyone. Even Kate, who had evidently worked hard to put that expression on her face, looked stupefied at my brusque behaviour.

They had probably expected the shy and meek Ana to come over, cry, apologise, hug everyone and be all smiles in the end. Well, that was not going to happen. I would not give them the satisfaction of being on the side which has the power in the situation. I looked at Christian, who looked stunning in his cream coloured shirt. "Well? What is there to be decided? Don't waste my time, Grey." I said.

Christian cleared his throat to divert the attention on to him. None of them turned. I pretended not to care. "Err… Which flavour he prefers for the cake, what games he would like to play, who he wants at his birthday, things like that." I gave him a mocking smile.

"And the Father-of-the-year award goes to…" I said. His face was ashen. "Whatever. Favourite flavour, well, butterscotch, the games, he loves anything that has bats and balls in it, although he would prefer a swim, I think. He wants only his family on his birthday, no one else. Now that this is done, shall I return?"

"Ana!" Mia burst out agitatedly. "What happened to you?"

"If you knew of that," I said, dryly, "You would be having dark circles under your eyes. You wouldn't like that for your marriage, would you? I heard you guys got engaged. Finally! Congratulations." I said. My tone was mocking with slight contempt, a little wistfulness and a little bit of genuineness. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to Falcon.

"Shark." He hissed. I narrowed my eyes. I turned back around. Ethan was giving me a hateful look, along with Mia.

"Grey. I am asking you again-"

"His name is Christian!" Grace said in a trembling voice. With rage, no doubt. I lifted my brows.

"Really," I drawled. Then I turned back at him. "Do I have anything else to do? I am incurring losses every second I stay here."

"Don't speak to him of business, you bitch! He was the one who taught you those things!" Grace said vehemently. My blood boiled. This was as much of defiance I could take from an opponent. The shark rose from deep waters.

"What did you call me?" I said quietly, threat emanating from every fibre of my being.

"She called you a bitch. Because that's what you have become." Kate said forcefully. "Leave her be, Grace. She's not worth talking to."

"Well, fuck you. Fuck you people, because damned if I care for anything that accidentally leaves your mouth." I snapped at them, the words visibly whipping them with cruelty.

Suddenly, my CEO mind snapped into action. My gears began turning with full speed. What was the reason behind their aggressive reaction? Within nano-seconds, a possibility occurred to me. I turned to Christian. He was watching me with a carefully. The moment my head flew to his direction, he started. I sneered at him.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" I said. He had sense enough to look ashamed. I smiled lifelessly. "This is so typical of you." I small laugh escaped my mouth. I saw Grace step forward. My peripheral look told me that her eyes had never once left me. She looked kind of mad in the crazy way, now.

"You destroyed him." She hissed. "You destroyed his happiness! You ruined him! Is that what you wanted all these years? To obtain all his trade secrets and beat him at his own game?"

Christian shifted uncomfortably. "Mom, st-"

"No! Let me finish! You ruined him, ruined our happiness. You took his son away from him. Hell, you stole a part of his business from him! How dare you come here, you arrogant little gold-digging bitch?!" She spit at my feet. "I have no idea where you-"

"Mother, stop!" Christian interrupted, forcefully. "Don't blame her." He said, making it evident who was to blame. Kate went to Grace and pulled her back.

"Yes, don't, Grace. I'm not worth it." I said mockingly. Christian cast me a pleading look. My mind and my tears fought a long battle. Ultimately, the mind won, which meant that I was back in CEO mode. I smirked. "Right. Heaven forbid my ex-husband be anything but a victim in the situation." I said. "Congratulations, Grey. You have outclassed yourself in all things shitty." I said, bitterly.

This time Elliot spoke. "Don't turn the tables, Steele." He said harshly. "You lost the right to decide what was right and wrong a long time ago. If your intention-"

"I have had enough!" I exploded. The ruthless marine animal was unleashed. I could now feel the shark taking over my senses. I took a few steps towards Christian. "I am done! Done with your web of lies! I am done with you manipulating every single thing that remotely concerns me!" I looked wildly around the room and gained a sense of vindictive satisfaction as I saw surprise and fear in their faces, looking at my persona.

"Tell them, Christian, why I left you! I imagine that you simply concealed the truth and these people," I turned to the rest of them, "-made their own assumptions. Tell them, you ungrateful, chauvinistic prick! Remained mum, didn't you? You had to find other people to lie to, yeah? That's a big bunch, Grey. You haven't even told Flynn. I'll bet the valuation of my entire business."

At this moment, Falcon tapped my shoulder. "What?!" I snapped.

"The shark, Ma'am." He muttered almost inaudibly.

"I don't give a fuck! These people deserve it." I hissed in fury.

"Ma'am, calm down." He ordered. He shook me once, and I regained my senses. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Thank god for Falcon.

"Christian?" I heard my mother say tentatively. "What is she saying?" I sighed, tired of all the adrenaline that rushed through me. The vein in my forehead slowed down in its throbbing. I was beginning to get a headache from all that stress.

"Quickly, Grey. I am getting a migraine. If the pain increases, I need to go. But I sure as hell won't make this job any easier for you." I said, tiredly.

"Tell me!" Ray shouted at him, desperate to find a way to absolve his daughter of any crime.

"I cheated on her, with a girl called Shellie Hale. Ana saw an email from her in my inbox and she confronted me about it. I confirmed her theory. She left me." He said in a robotic, detached manner. "What she says is true. Stop blaming her."

"That's it?" I asked with disbelief. "That's all you did? Cheat? If that were the case, I would have probably come back to you now!" Christian frowned and gave me a puzzled glance. "You don't want to tell them? I certainly won't. You can do it on your own terms, later. Good luck with that."

Silence ensued. The tension in the air seemed to heighten. I heard someone choke back a sob, breaking it. I turned to see my mother clasping her hand over her mouth. She covered the space between us in three long strides and hugged me. I was a little uncomfortable, with this invasion of personal space. Nobody had touched me except for Ted in the last two years. Carla began crying and didn't seem to be in a hurry to stop. I had decided to forgive her for doubting me as she had merely doubted. The others seemed to have been hell bent on believing their other theory. We both didn't speak. The physical contact erased the necessity of any verbal communication.

My dad walked slowly towards me as my mum and I broke apart. I scrutinised his expression. "I told you it was too early to get married. I told you. What is wrong with you? Why can't you listen to your parents?" He said, sobbing in the end.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't have had Theodore, would I?" I said, smiling for his benefit. It was the first positive emotion I had displayed since I arrived. My father pulled my head to his chest and wrapped his arms around me, as if never wishing to let go. The tears from his eyes dropped on my head, but I didn't care. For the first time in forever, I felt tears slowly trickling out from the corner of my eyes. I wrapped my hands around his torso and hugged him tightly. Overpowering love and remorse suddenly gushed through me. I didn't want to let go now, either. I could now hear sniffles in the room.

"You… you had an affair? When you had her?" I heard Kate's voice say. I let go of my father but continued to hold his hand. I saw Kate standing in front of Christian, inches away from him. "You sick… sick bastard!" She shouted.

"Let it go, Kate. I am not worthy of being spoken for. I had no idea that you were on team Christian so passionately. Now I know it's true that people pick sides in a divorce – and all the right ones, I'm sure." I said, matter-of-factly. Kate looked at me with wide eyes, those blue eyes spilling over with tears. She looked vulnerable, like everybody there. Grace collapsed on the couch behind her in shock. Elliot involuntarily leaned against the wall. Mia began crying in earnest.

"What the fuck was I supposed to think?" Kate shouted. "You went AWOL and this imbecile wouldn't tell us anything! You didn't even want to talk when we tried so hard to reach you!"

"You were supposed to keep faith!" I roared. "You were supposed to believe in my character! You knew me for five years. Didn't you pause to think that I was so much better a person than a – what is it you called me, Grace? A gold digging whore, yeah?"

Grace lifted her eyes to me. "I am sorry." She said simply. "I didn't know. I am so, so sorry. I can't believe I said those things."

"Believe it," I said scathingly. "Because they are going to haunt you for the rest of your life."

"Ana," Elliot said, moving forward. "We're all sorry. We didn't know. He-" He pointed at Christian. "He led us to believe that you were to blame. We… we didn't know!" He swallowed convulsively. I left my father's hand. I guess he didn't try to stop me because he wanted to punish the family that drove his daughter to become a maniacal control-freak.

"I believe," I said looking at Carrick. "That in court, you solve legal disputes by listening to both sides of the argument. Isn't that right, Carrick?" Carrick looked at me warily and nodded. "Wanted me to sign a pre-nup, didn't you? Did you read the papers, dear Carrick? I built my entire company from scratch, with no start-up fund from a sleazy, molesting cougar." At this, I pointedly looked at Christian. His head was permanently bowed.

"Turning the tables, are we now, Elliot? Oh, yes, I am. You were prepared to decimate me, weren't you? All of you, for hurting your brother dearest. Well, guess what, I have turned the tables."

"Ana, stop! You're scaring me! You are scaring all of us! Please stop behaving like this! Come back to us, like who you were!" Mia pleaded, frightened. Ethan put an arm around her, unable to meet my eyes.

"I told you, Mia. What your brother did has changed me permanently, for better or for worse. I can't come back." I said. I let that sink into everybody. My migraine had increased. I turned around to Falcon. "The painkillers." I said. He produced them like magic. I took the pills. When I turned back around, everyone was somewhat composed.

"Ana," Ethan said quietly, always the sensible one. "Tell us what we can do, so you can forgive us. Please." I thought for a second.

"The most we can do right now is act like a happy family in front of Ted the day after. That is what he wants and that is what we can give him. I bid you all goodbye for now. I need some rest. I have to run a company again tomorrow." I said. I gave my card to my parents and I left, making a grand exit.


	8. Grey the Amnesiac

Falcon was not amused. He was extremely formal around me after that, making it evident that he was disappointed. He isn't my father, I thought, irritated. He is my head of security and he should behave as such. I ignored him stuffily. I was only human, not the paragon of virtues. I couldn't very well let go of my anger which I had harboured for nearly five years within a matter of few minutes, especially with the injustice served to me. That night, mom and dad arrived at my penthouse. It was awkward in the beginning, because they didn't know how to talk to me. I had changed so much that I didn't even take tea anymore. Slowly, after a little bit of small talk, we began to speak about Ted. They were all praise for him – they could find no fault with him.

Never once did they speak of my entrepreneurial success. That was because they knew that it wasn't me in my entirety that had created my empire. It was a vengeful, power-driven, remorseless part of me who had formed a cyst around my raw wounds to protect myself from unfavourable conditions. The vengeful part of me, though, fed incessantly on the hostile environment thrown at her and thrived till she could. They knew that what I had created was for self-defence, a dormant emotion which I myself hadn't known existed. But my subconscious had woken it up the moment the situation arose. They didn't exactly approve of it, but they accepted that it was necessary, and that even though it might dim, it would never sleep again; never allow anyone to underestimate me ever again. We spoke until late into the night, after which I arranged for rooms for both of them in the hotel itself. I slept more restlessly than usual that night, worried about what other drama would unfold.

Ted was awfully excited about this birthday. He assumed that everybody would get along, everybody would be happy and that this would be some sort of a family reunion. Boy, was he wrong. Ted's birthday party was held in Grace and Carrick's rooftop. It was beautifully decorated; by professionals, no doubt. Ted grinned at all the pomp and show which he normally wasn't used to back home.

When I arrived at Grace and Carrick's, Kate and Elliot arrived at the same time. She got out really fast, to try and talk to me, I suppose, but I didn't give them a second glance. I climbed upstairs. All eyes riveted to me. I smiled at Ted who came running to hug me. I scooped him up in my arms and gave him a smacking kiss on his cheek. "Happy Birthday, Theo." I whispered to him. His eyes were shining brightly.

"Thanks, mom." He said. I knew he was not talking about what I had just said. I just smiled wider at him. I looked around the room. Christian was looking at both of us wistfully. The moment I caught his eye, he looked away. I grimaced. This was going to be a long day. The celebrations continued with music, games and all that kids usually enjoyed. There was a clown who came and amused the children.

Ted was showered with expensive gifts placed on every nook and corner of the rooftop. Top class swim gears, highly expensive surf boards, countless gadgets and what not. Ted was thrilled. He was gifted a large portrait which was actually a collage. Photos of his family, the three of us in Ted's early childhood, from the various vacations we had taken, other happy memories - I was mesmerised by the collage. I drifted back to those happy times, wistfully. I was snapped back to reality when Ted exclaimed about how much he liked his gift.

No one seemed to have the spine to confront me, apologise directly and make amends. They seemed to continually look at me surreptitiously look at me, afraid to come out and talk. I, like the power begotten, deluded fool that I was, kept my head held high stubbornly. I refused to give them any chance to explain. I strutted around like a pretentious peacock during the party. As I was looking at Kate haughtily when she tried to make eye contact, my mom came and stood next to me.

"You do know," She said conversationally. "That you are behaving with the maturity of a ten year old, don't you? In fact, your son seems to have more of that capability than you." I turned to her, surprised, immediately ready to defend my actions. Then I realised, I had elevated to the maturity level of a teenager. I frowned at her and began justifying all my actions in my head. I couldn't always be the bigger person. I couldn't always be the person who tolerated everything. As I continued on this line of thought I realised that, if I continued in this manner, there might come a point where these people would not bother with trying to get me back into their life. That would neither be productive to me nor to them. Production, my subconscious scoffed. As if this decision of yours is so mechanical.

I breathed in deeply once and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened my eyes, I could see Kate looking at me hopefully, like she had done all afternoon. I smiled at her a little. Her eyes widened a little and she smiled back hesitantly. She got the message that our relationship was not completely broken. Then I began to subtly send hints to the rest that I wasn't going to harbour a grudge against everyone forever.

Slowly but surely, the tense environment eased, making it more comfortable for everyone to breathe. Never had my opinion mattered to so much to my family before. They had wrongfully accused me of ugly things, and my forgiveness became their biggest punishment. I was sure that they would rather I continued to yell my head off, because they thought they deserved that more.

Ted had opened his Nintendo or Wii or whatever that was Christian had given him and was thoroughly engrossed in it. He immediately set it up and began playing on it. That was when we decided to have dinner. Polite comments were being made everywhere, not to break the delicate balance of peace. We sat at the long dining table and began our fancy lunch. I began the conversation, lest this conversation turn out to be another dead one. "So, Elliot, how is work? I read that you faced a loss with the Gilmore Corporation." Everyone looked up, surprised. They hadn't expected me to listen to their conversation, let alone speak.

"Uh..." Elliot stuttered. "Yeah, I mean, yes. That wasn't a big deal. We have bounced back now. You have seen our stock prices haven't you?"

"Well, yes. I often trade in your company's stocks. But didn't they ask for a massive settlement?" I asked again, curious about his business.

"They did, but we settled it for a much lower price later. In fact, we found a legal loophole in our contract. They had breached the terms of our contract. So the mutual payment minimised our loss." He finished.

"Ah." I said, gravely. "And your quarterly results this year were surprisingly good. Congratulations." I said.

"Thanks." He said embarrassedly. More silence ensued. Only the noises of the clinking of the cutlery and Ted's yelling were heard. Why was nobody talking, for heaven's sake?

"Kate, dear," My mother said, the Lord bless her. "Why didn't you tell us about the promotion? I had to hear it from Grace!" She exclaimed. Kate looked up at me and then to Carla.

"Err... Yes, I was promoted – chief editor at the Seattle branch of the NIE Media House." She said, with a hint of pride in her voice. I looked startled for a second.

"Are you the one I have to thank for that colourful report on me during that joint venture with Belle Femina Group?" I asked, a little surprised. Kate blushed.

"I... I mean... well, yes." She confessed. She had directed her vitriol towards me in news piece, ranting and raving about how I was supporting a cause which portrayed women as objects rather than human beings with emotions. I kept quiet, not wanting to cause more trouble. Then another thing occurred to me.

"And what about the reports on the award function recently? Where I met Grey?" I asked, now beginning to realise that she was one of those journalists who constantly spewed a bunch of bullshit hatred towards me relentlessly. She blushed again.

"Yes. And the other piece on your... um... environmental project." She said hot and bothered; wanting to confess it all before I had a chance to think of more items.

"Well," I said. I saw her look at me nervously. "Congratulations on the promotion." I simply said. She nodded in acknowledgement. Then I saw Elliot look at her meaningfully. She nodded a little hesitantly. They held hands on top of the table and looked at all of us. Nobody had noticed this but me. "I think the Kate and Elliot have an announcement to make." I said.

They looked at me, a little surprised. Then they looked at everyone. "Mom, dad, everyone, we're pregnant again." Elliot announced cheerfully. There were controlled exclamations and wishes. Some got up to hug the pair. I stayed put in my seat. I extended my hand to them after the commotion and congratulated them.

No one spoke of Christian during the entire meal. Everyone consciously avoided him. I was kind of glad. He was finally getting what he deserved. No one should get away with affecting an individual so negatively. In fact, if this went to the court, he would be arrested, but I didn't want my family broken in that manner. When I excused myself to go to the washroom, I heard another chair pull out. I just continued walking nonchalantly. When we were out of their sight, Christian caught up to me. He ran in front of me and stood in my way.

"Ana, listen to me for a minute and don't interrupt." Christian said in a low volume, hurriedly. "You have no idea how much I regret doing the things that I did. The… uh… cheating and the... um… control obsession of mine. But yesterday, when I was… revealing everything to everyone, you mentioned something else which I was supposedly supposed to know." I opened my mouth in outrage, but he hurriedly went on. "Now before you start talking, I have to tell you, Shellie Hale was drugging me for as long as I remained unfaithful to you. So I have no memory of the happenings on the nights that I returned home after our meetings." He said all this so fast, that I had to concentrate to get the whole thing. As he said all that, horror began to well inside my chest. My eyes were wide and I could sense them prickling. My lips parted in shock and I saw the rising alarm in Christian's face.

"Ana?" he said, concerned. I couldn't reply. I just stared at him agape. I was beyond words; beyond thought. All those years of torture… and he didn't even know about it? I collapsed against the wall. I was dazed. My eyes clouded over as I slipped down slowly to the ground. I put my face in my palms and breathed deeply.

"Ana?" Christian whispered. "Please say something." I uncovered my face and looked up at him blankly. His words seemed to seep in through the layers of fog covering my mind.

"I… uh… have nothing to say." I declared, dazed. Christian frowned, a little 'v' forming between his brows.

"Are you sure you're okay? Should I call your security?" He asked solicitously. Something snapped inside me.

"Am I okay?" I said in a low furious tone. "Do I look okay, you idiot? I shiver just thinking of those memories which you apparently don't seem to have. No, I believe you. You wouldn't be stupid enough to face me after all that you have done if you actually remembered them. I was beyond shocked when you brought up the topic again, so much so that I was actually civil to you! I have nightmares every single bloody night about your memory-less nights. So, no, Christian; I am NOT okay." I finished, breathing heavily. He looked at me like an idiot who has just been slapped.

I walked into the washroom, calmed myself down and came out. Christian wasn't there anymore. I approached Falcon, extending my hand. He raised his brows. I glared at him. Surrendering, he gave my phone to me. Work. Work always calmed me down.

We reached Grace's place in the late evening. We were all assembled on the rooftop, where the decorations had now changed. Pretty white LED lights blinked everywhere I looked. The place almost seemed magical. Everyone was getting set with watching a marathon of Ted's favourite movies. Christian kept giving me concerned looks and I became increasingly irritated with the attention he was giving me. I told Ted that I would give his gift when we returned to Tacoma and he gladly agreed.

The day ended on a happy note. Christian was content that Ted enjoyed the day. It showed in his face. The rest were joyous that they were able to reunite with me. In general, everybody was happy. Grace, somewhat hesitantly offered that I could crash at their place that night, but I immediately declined.

"I still hate your guts, but that's not why I'm turning down your offer. I have already booked a suite at a hotel and I hate to see money go waste." I explained. She nodded, her face falling.

"I understand… and Ana? I am deeply sorry for every word of mine and I hope that someday you will be able to forgive me." She looked at me ashamed, chagrined and repentant. It was hard for her to get it all out, I noticed. I nodded briefly and turned away. There were a lot of awkward one-armed hugs and handshakes during the farewell time. I gave them my number and my email address, promising to correspond regularly and left. Ted was to crash at his dad's place and I was going to pick him up the next day and leave in my chopper.

I returned to the hotel dog-tired and collapsed on the bed, locking the door securely. Somehow, I was repulsed by beds in general. I went to the other end of the room and fell asleep on the couch, lest the security should hear my screams of my everyday nightmares.


	9. Pin the Ball

Although I was still the same Ana as before, I felt myself softening a little, with the concept of 'family' back in my life. I was allowing myself to remember, to feel, to reconcile. I felt rejuvenated. I had really needed this, but I hadn't known it. I had so determinedly and defiantly, repeatedly told myself that I didn't need any of them and I could handle everything on my own. But I was wrong. I could handle everything but my own balance. Everything needed balance.

If I could be an overbearing, commanding dictator, then I also needed to have a soft, tender side of me shared among an equal amount of people. I had long suppressed my 'emo' persona, but now, I was ready to let go of my hold and live. I decided to take a long-due break. I knew it was necessary to not swing to the other end as before either, but I needed to live again. I had made my money, now it was time to enjoy it.

I entered office a week later. It was eight in the evening. "Good evening, Stella." I greeted her with a cordial nod.

"G-good evening to you too, Ms Steele." she stammered. I grinned inwardly. Geez, I thought, it feels so good to be nice to people again.

"Stella, clear my schedule for the rest of the month. I am taking off for some time." she blinked again.

"M-ma'am?" she stuttered in disbelief. I repeated my statement patiently. Stella loved her job and so, she heard it right this time. She seemed to still be reeling in shock. I hadn't snapped at her even once today and a whole minute had passed. I blinked with shock internally. Had I been such a bitch? I had a sinking feeling that the people around me would nod vigorously to the same question.

"I shall expect no calls unless heavy losses are about to happen, someone is dying or the company is in serious jeopardy. Do you understand me clearly?" I emphasised, my eyes boring into hers.

"Yes, Ma'am." She nodded in the affirmative.

"Good." I said. I entered my office, shoved a few things into my briefcase very disorganisedly and exited the building. I heard whispers around me as I walked and a lot of hushing. My lips curved ever so slightly. Falcon opened the door for me and then started the engine.

"Where to, Ma'am?" he asked. I took a deep breath. I felt like I was literally relieving all the pressure in my system.

"Falcon, take me to an extremely classy club. I have no idea about those, but I hear that this place called Pinball is pretty good." I said.

"Very good, Ma'am." He said. I decided I would have a normal person's typical night. Drink, flirt, dance and… go home with someone. Somewhere in the corner of my mind, my subconscious was lecturing and glaring at me, giving me major guilt trips. I put a tape over her mouth quickly and shut her up. I wasn't going to feel guilty. It had been three years and I was allowed to have fun. And God only knew how many of those contracts Christian had signed.

We reached the club and Falcon quickly got me admission to the club. I still maintained my regal bearing, but I was more welcome to conversations. I recognised several people there, most who were victims to my brutal assaults. I asked Falcon to get me a strong drink and seconds later, he had it for me. I had had an aversion to drinks ever since my ex's drunken episodes. I could not stand to look at them. I was improving and coming out of it. I was finally coming to terms with it, and that too without an expensive charlatan.

I sat on one of the plush couches and looked around. People and people everywhere – how was I going to be social? I had lost all my interactive qualities long back. I sighed. "Falcon, I really have no idea what to do." I said sadly.

"You would probably not be well received by your... um... victims but you could probably try the rest. There are very few of them, if I am right." He said, surveying the scene. Not surprisingly, I could hear titters all around and I saw the men's spine straighten, suddenly defensive in front of a woman more powerful than they. I smiled at someone I knew, a tech-company CEO who I had recently met at the same awards function where I had spoken to Grey.

"Ms Steele, what a pleasant surprise!" He said lazily, coming towards me. I saw jealous stares coming from both genders. Dominic Edley was rich, sexy and charming too. He was a playboy, the society rumours said. He was the perfect candidate for a one night stand. "Do you come here often? I haven't seen you here before."

"Oh, no." I said, smiling. "This is the first time I have come here. I hadn't taken a break for a long time, so I thought... why not I have a little fun tonight?"

He smiled knowingly. "Absolutely. Even CEOs like us deserve a break, once in a while. I completely understand. It's only fair, especially with each one of our... unique definitions of fun." He looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes. I felt something stirring in my stomach – my inner goddess stirring from her elongated slumber. She rubbed her eyes and immediately sprung up, unable to believe her eyes.

"I am glad you understand." I said, going closer to him seductively. I breathed in and smelled Eau de Vert Eau de Parfum, Miller Harris. He definitely wasn't thrifty with his expenditures. And I was definitely going to get some tonight. He leaned in and closed his eyes for a second. Opening it, a satisfied smile spread across his face.

"Buy you a drink?" He asked. I nodded enthusiastically. He grinned and went to get me a drink. But I didn't end my search there. I wanted him to know that I wasn't such an easy lay. I went around more, now confident, socializing. I spoke to several other excellent specimen of the male gender, giving off hints with each one, but forgetting their names the second I heard them. They were fawning and I could clearly see it. Each one wanted to fuck the unattainable, the powerful Anastasia Steele. Each one wanted to proclaim to the world that they had spent the night with Christian Grey's ex-wife. Only one person would have the honour that night and they wanted it to be them.

Dominic had returned with the drink and was trying to get a word edgewise amidst my bevy of admirers. After our drink, he subtly guided me towards the edge of the room and said, "Well? I thought we understood each other." He said, a little quizzical smile on his face that was rather adorable.

"We do." I said, smiling back. He gave a satisfied look and ducked his head to kiss me. I put a hand on his chest and turned my face away. "I'm not classless, Edley. Let's get a room or something." I said. He looked a little annoyed but realized I was right. He gestured at someone and slipped them a little cash. He gave us directions to a private room. Turning to Falcon and telling him that I would be late, I followed Edley to the room. The instant we entered it, he locked the door and turned around happily. Some memory came surging back but my inner goddess shoved it aside. I needed some action badly. I turned off the lights. We whammed into each other like crazed, deranged people. Once we were stripped down naked, I knew that there was no going back. How much ever I would regret it later, for now, I was going to have sex.

About an hour and a half later, we lay on the floor, gasping for breath, completely satiated. The sex was mind-blowing, mainly because I hadn't had it for a long time. At the same time, my wounds, physical and mental were still raw, unaddressed and unhealed. I got up quickly, put my dress back on and left without a word. When I came to the entrance, I signaled to Brandon that I was leaving. I walked out of the room as Brandon followed me. We rode back home speedily. I stayed in the car, unable to move. I had just had sex. With the second ever man. Someone other than Christian Grey. I couldn't stand the thought of that. I had assumed that I would belong to him forever.

I had never ever thought, even after the divorce, what it would be like to be with another man. Even earlier today, I hadn't given it any thought. Now, after the deed was done, my revulsion towards men, towards the act of sex itself resurfaced. My self-loathing increased.

I felt dirty, like I had done something to stain my identity permanently.


	10. The Grass on the Other Side

(CPOV)

In the later years of our marriage, I started getting frustrated with Ana. She had become docile… and submissive – everything I hadn't married her for. I loved her for her spirit. I loved her for the fact that she had the guts to stand up to me, something which only my family had dared to. She was – had been different.

With that pea brain of mine, little did I realise that the change in Ana was because of me, because of my fucking obsession with control. The decision we had come to wasn't helping either of us. I began to hate the way she behaved, not raising her voice for anything, accepting everything I said. I wanted to tell her to stop doing that; but somehow, I could never get around to saying that.

Then I started doing things that would piss her off, just to provoke her into yelling, or standing up to me. I began coming home late, another brilliant novel idea on my part to deliberately increase the fights between us. I stayed at the office, doing all of the pending work, so much so that the company flourished more than ever before. Things could have been mended even at this stage, if I hadn't doubled my idiocy.

One day, the devil entered my life. Satan appeared in the form of a female witch. Shellie Hale. She had come to my office as a PR rep from a client company. She was explaining about the press conference that was happening the next week for a new acquisition of a mid-cap company. She was blushing to the roots of her hair and talking, stuttering and stammering all the while. I was amused. She was reacting to this pretty face, and it was damned funny to watch. What was curious was that she wasn't coy and flirty like all the other women that I met. She wasn't smiling at him. She appeared embarrassed. As the meeting ended, I took pity on her and smiled at her.

"Well, Ms Hale. It was a pleasure meeting you. If you are so uncomfortable around me though, you can send another rep. A male one, preferably." I smirked. She blushed again, mortified.

"Oh, no, Mr Grey! I am sorry if I gave you that impression. The thing is, well, this is the first time I'm handling a big account, and I am just a tad nervous." She smiled hesitantly. I grinned inwardly. This seemed like a cat and mouse game; she was waiting for me to pounce any time. I thought it would be humane to make her comfortable around me. After all, she would be around a long time.

"Ms Hale, how would you feel about a cup of coffee in the café across the street?" She was so astonished that she dropped the paper and pen she was holding. She blushed again.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I am so sorry! How silly of me. I was just… surprised, that's all." She bent to pick them all up. I helped her out.

"Understandable." I flashed a gleaming smile. "So what do you say?"

"Of course!" she agreed. I asked her to leave and wait there for me first, afraid of wagging tongues. I then informed Taylor of the situation. He frowned but didn't say anything. We left the building and went to the cafe. She smiled and waved tentatively as she saw me enter. I joined her in the table in a far corner, lest the paparazzi caught this.

We sat there sipping a cappuccino and taking. At first, she was nervously blabbering about work and how everything would go off without a hitch on D-day. I eased her nerves slowly and we began talking about trivial things.

This became a sort of a tradition for the following two weeks. We worked for a while, with a feeling of friendly ease between us. Then we went to the café and 'hung out'. About two days after the conference, I had a huge fight with Ana about my late night stays at the office combined with not paying enough attention to Ted and some other similar matters. I was in a bad mood and everybody stayed out of my way. Then Shellie came in in her usual sprightly, bubbly manner. Apparently, she hadn't been warned.

I glared at her and she shrank back. I sighed, closing my eyes. It wasn't her fault that my wife riled me. "Hello, Shellie." I said.

"Christian." She said, tensely. I exhaled.

"I'm sorry. It's just… home troubles. So tell me…" We proceeded to the day's agenda. After a while, we took a break. I was looking out of the window, staring at nothing. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Christian... I shall take the liberty of calling myself your friend. I sincerely hope that I'm not wrong. I... wanted to tell you that you can confide in me… you can tell me anything, and I swear that my lips are sealed." She said earnestly. I looked at her wide blue eyes and something in me sparked. I grabbed her face, and within minutes, we were on my desk, stark naked. At least I had the sense to lock the door, then. Or maybe, it would have been better if someone had found us. It would have all ended before it went too far.

This little tryst continued for months. We met up late nights in my office where I opened up good bottles of Scotch and whisky. We drank to our satisfaction and then we had nice vanilla sex. I somehow didn't feel like being kinky with her. She had no idea of my expertise or rather, sexpertise in that area. After that, I was so drunk that I had no memory of the happenings of the night. I assumed that as usual, I changed and went to bed.

Confusion, guilt, regret, remorse. They dominated my thoughts. Taylor warned me the first night I stayed out late with her. "Mr Grey, just think about Mrs Grey. You're married for god's sake! You love your wife! You just can't do this!" He emphasised forcefully. He actually banged the steering wheel. I had given him a steely look and turned away. He had sighed and continued driving. I knew Taylor now loved Ana more than me. I gave him a raise and paid for his insurances, taking care of some of Sophie's prime necessities.

Taylor was conflicted. On one hand, he needed my money; on the other, he was fiercely loyal to Ana. I guessed that he decided to wait as long as he could.

As time passed, Shellie became more and more confident and was becoming bolder in all respects. I was under the illusion that her self-esteem had been boosted by being able to gain the attentions of the great Christian Grey. How very wrong I was.

Ana became more and more volatile. I didn't blame her. Usually, I would just accept all that she had to say to me until she was tired of speaking. After that, I would walk away. The life I was leading was pathetic in one way, but relieving in another.

The amount of change Ana had brought about in me left me scared and spellbound. This just ensured that I was plain evil. I kept reassuring myself, blaming others and relating my sob story to Shellie every fucking day. Pun intended. I was not bothered much about Ana finding out as I was usually careful about everything. The day before she found out, she had been yelling at me about how I should at least try and keep my pants on when I came home drunk and keep my limbs to myself. This made me frown. That night, I discussed about this with Shellie and she simply nodded and listened to me sympathetically.

When Ana left me, I went into shock. I adjourned the on-going meeting and sat in my chair, clutching at my hair. "What have I done? What have I done?" I continually muttered, until Taylor burst in without knocking.

"Mr Grey! Ana has left for Florida, minutes ago." He informed me, with an accusatory look.

I looked up slowly, as if in my dream. "Did she… take Ted?" I whispered. He nodded quickly could.

"Shit!" I screamed and threw a paper weight at the wall. It broke into pieces. "How did I let this happen?! How the fuck did she find out?!" I yelled at Taylor. Taylor froze for a second. He then came forward and threw me a punch in my face. I staggered back because of the force.

"I have had it until here," he pointed at his head, "working with a dick. Ana deserved so much more, and you chose to gift her with an affair. At this circumstance, you're supposed to be running after her, trying to get her back; not asking how she found out!" He threw me a look of disgust. "I am ashamed that I am still not able to make a decision about giving my two weeks' notice; so if you decide to fire me, I shall accept it gladly." And for the first time, Taylor turned his back on me.

That night, I sat in my office, twirling a pen in my hand, when Shellie entered. I looked at her looking pale. "This was a mistake." I whispered. "We shouldn't have done this." She looked at me curiously, when understanding dawned on her face.

"I take it she left you?" she asked. I nodded once, unable to face the truth. My world had come crashing down in seconds and I was yet to come to terms with that fact. She sat next to me and stroked my back. She then stood up and brought out a drink. I took it absent-mindedly gulped it down, planning to drown my miseries in alcohol. After a couple of refills, she started to unbutton my shirt. I swatted her hand away, annoyed. "Not today, Shellie." I snapped.

Suddenly, I felt nauseous and feverish. I couldn't breathe and I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I saw a hazy figure move and I heard the door click. I tried to scream but no words came out of my mouth. I collapsed and plunged into darkness.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital. The heart-reading monitors were annoying me. I looked around to see my mother staring at me anxiously.

"Mom," I managed to utter weakly. She swallowed once and rushed towards me, kissing my cheeks and hugging me.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She kept saying. "How could she leave you that way? And take your son away from you? It isn't fair to you! But that didn't warrant you subjecting yourself to drug overdose!" she looked at me angrily. "You could have died! You have no idea what hell you have made me undergo!"

I just listened to her, not uttering a single word. I could not understand what she was saying. Drug overdose? I had never touched a drug more than what I required in my entire life. Grace finally realised that she couldn't wheedle out another word from me, so she left. After several minutes of solitude and reflection, Taylor entered the room. He appeared stricken and chagrined.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have left until you actually fired me. I should have been there." He said ashamedly. The man still thought that I would have the heart to fire him. But something else was bothering me.

"It wasn't your fault, Taylor. It was entirely mine. You were right. I have begun to think in the direction that I was supposed to think. Listen, Taylor. I didn't take the drugs. They were given to me by someone. Ms Hale dropped by late in the evening. I think she put something in my drink. Do a sweep in my office. Where is she, by the way?" Taylor looked shocked.

"She was the one who called the ambulance, sir. She was waiting for some time but she left a few hours ago.

"Well, keep tabs on her and inform me about the sweep." I ordered. He nodded curtly and prepared to leave the room. As he opened the door, I said, "And Taylor, I promise you, I'll change my ways. I shall stop being such a 'dick', as you put it. Just… don't leave me now." I told him, feeling very vulnerable. He gave me a small smile, nodded curtly and left the room.

I found out the next day that I had, in fact been drugged. Although this was expected, I was still stunned to silence, as Taylor droned on about the details. I was wondering how I, intelligent-yet-stupid CEO, could be fooled by a mere PR rep. A non-entity. That villainous girl should have to be tracked down.

I did track her down, and very soon, in fact. The hitch was that she threatened to go to the press and reveal about our many a tête-à-tête. I stalled there. I immediately asked her to leave the state and go as far as possible from me. I didn't want to come off as vindictive, but as an incentive, I offered to ruin her financially, if she didn't do as I ordered.

Doubtlessly, she left.

I didn't bother about her after that. I was more worried about getting Ana back. When I was served, I couldn't sleep for two days. Then I thought that the best course of action under such circumstances would be to seduce her into submission. I somehow knew that she would come to me herself.

When she did, I was bowled over. I had never witnessed any person who could manage a situation so well besides me. But even I couldn't manage to even the dominance of the conversation. Not even barely. This was a whole new Ana, revealing a side of her which she had never shown before. We were now equals, with regard to stumping everyone. Fuck, I hated to admit it, but she had the upper hand every single damn time. It was frustrating and awe-inspiring at the same time. She left me utterly helpless in my office after having eaten directly out of her hand, doing just the thing that she wanted me to do.

It was paradoxical. On one hand, I wanted her to be happy, and I knew signing the papers would at least give her some satisfaction. On the other hand, well… I wanted her back. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry, that I wanted my family back and that I would change. But those words sounded lame even to my own years. I had done something irreparable and only time (hopefully) would heal.

Over the next two years, I tried to contact her repeatedly, but kept getting shot down by that damned receptionist. The one time I nearly managed, that dratted Falcon got hold of the call and ended it before it got to Ana.

The many times I took Ted out, I tried to bond with him as much as possible. I wanted to keep contact with the one thing that brought me closer to Ana. And of course, there was the fact that he was my son and I loved him very much.

I watched closely as she climbed the ladder of success quicker and smarter than I had. She rose to fame and she was now my equal in all respects. This is how it should have been, I remembered thinking to myself. This is how I should have treated her. Like a partner. Like an equal. Regret was eating into me.

I attended all ceremonies, accepted every invite that I received, hoping I would see her. It never happened until Ted expressed his desire to his mother. Thank god for that boy.

Despite being thoroughly chewed out by her at that awards function, I didn't lose hope. She had given everything of hers to me for ten years, gave them to my care. Now it was my turn. I was determined to put everything of mine into getting her back. Nothing would stop me from achieving that.

At Grace's house, the tension in the air was thick enough to be sliced. I saw her face apathetic and emotionless, as she surveyed the room. After the heated encounter, accusations flying, livid retaliations and everything else, I was forced to blatantly reveal the truth about our marriage to my faithful, trusting family. None of them spoke to me after that. Not one even looked in my direction. Of course, I had expected that, but it still hurt. I knew I deserved it, but I suddenly felt like I had no one with me, to support me.

On Ted's birthday, the little scene by the restroom left me bemused and worried. Anxiety was crawling all over me and I wanted to desperately find the information that I was supposed to have known, that had frightened Ana so much that she refused to speak of it, that could possibly have been the main reason that she left me. I was so terror-struck by what I would find out; that a part of me didn't even want to know what had happened during my blackouts.

I had been beyond stupid, doing possible atrocious acts deliberately, driving the reason of my existence out of my life. There were different things I could have done for her in the present situation, had the circumstances been different. I could unashamedly confess that I would stoop to the level of using Ted to guilt trip her and weasel her back into my life. But she had everything with her, and there was nothing I could give her that she didn't have. I hated that fact.

After Ana and Ted left for Tacoma, I decided to find out what had been happening during the blanks of my life with earnest. The obvious and most simple solution was the surveillance cameras that were put up in my room that only I had access to. I procrastinated to the fullest extent, trying to avoid seeing the videos. Finally, I realised that if I wanted her back, I had to take immediate action.

I went up to the security room and dismissed everyone around. I searched for the videos of two years ago, calculating the approximate dates. When I found them, I copied them on to a pen drive and returned to my study. I covered the CCTV cameras in the study and sat down to watch it on my computer. I clicked on the earliest video. Ana was just sleeping restlessly. She was tossing and turning, murmuring things I couldn't hear.

After a while, I entered the room. I looked normal. I changed and went to bed by her side. I smacked my head, regretting all that time I had wasted with her. I deleted that video and went to the next one. Five videos later, I was convinced that nothing had happened. I went downstairs and poured myself a glass of vodka and went back to the study with the bottle. Utterly convinced of my innocence, I confidently played the next video. I was drinking the vodka slowly. I entered the room in the video. I threw my shirt at Ana. My hand with the glass froze near my lips.

I saw myself slapping Ana. She didn't retaliate. My brain wasn't functioning enough to realize why. I saw myself undress and tackle Ana on the bed. I saw myself break every single one of my wedding vows to her. I saw myself raping her, something I had once saved her from. The glass fell on the floor, shattering, like my heart. I was in shock, unable to believe that this was some kind of a sick joke, that I couldn't do such things and not even know about them.

I hurriedly moved on to the next video and the subsequent few videos, fast forwarding them to see what I wanted to. After a few videos, I slumped back in my chair. I was forced to believe it. I had abused my own wife for nearly a year. Tears of terror and heartbreak welled up in my eyes and spilled over. My hands moved to close the window when my conscience stopped me cruelly. She was able withstand this for a YEAR and you can't bear to watch this for a few hours? Consider this your punishment. Watch every one of these videos, even if you don't want to. Watch your creativity, which you once took pride in, destroy your life.

I watched every single one of them. By the time I was done, I was a drunk, blubbering mess. I was crying and clutching at my hair furiously, helpless. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. I screamed out in agony. I grabbed one of the shards of glass on the floor and, with its sharp and, drew a red line on my hand. "Feel, you fucking bastard." I said to myself. "Feel all of that pain that you deserve."

I continued to draw blood from my body, the pain numbing my mind, silencing it. Slowly, I was drained of all energy. I sat back against the wall, drunk and wounded. I closed my eyes and slipped into a restless sleep.

The next morning, I found myself in my room, my hands attended to. I had a killer headache but that didn't bother me at all. I deserved every pain that came in my way. I rushed to my study and thanked God that no one had seen the videos. I closed the computer and pulled out the pen drive. I kept it in one of my safes. One thing was clear to me, now. Never again would I ever commit a mistake regarding Anastasia Rose Steele. I would do everything in my power to rectify the ones I had already made, and make sure that they would be rectified.

The woman's pale hands gripped the old, regal armchair. Hair long, blood red fingernails stood out in contrast to the pale setting of the room. She walked around the chair slowly, as if (and probably) hatching a plot. A slight frown marred her beautiful features, her red lips pressed into a line. She was annoyed - extremely. And when she was annoyed, it wasn't good for the soul at which her foul mood was targeted at.

The girl had fucked up, well and good. She had been terrified of golden boy's threats and had suddenly developed a conscience. All that careful planning and training… for months, had gone down the drain. She wondered distractedly why people were so inept at whatever job they did. It was as if no one but she could do anything right. Her slight anger made the veins in her hands protrude as she gripped the arm harder.

Regardless of the fact that the girl had fucked up, her plan had gone painfully awry. She fumed inwardly at the way Anastasia Steele had reacted to the divorce. She had underestimated the girl, and she was now facing the consequence. If only she hadn't found out in that manner, if only she could've been broken more, if only her spirit could've been destroyed, she would've won.

If only…

It was useless to think of what could have happened. There was no use crying over spilt milk. Her aim was to destroy her happiness, and she would fulfil it. If not Plan A, Plan B, then. But Plan B had to be spectacular, like a grand finale. She would either achieve her goal or die doing it, the woman thought fiercely.

She turned around to the girl sitting on the opposite chair, gazing at the fireplace. "Ms Hale!" she snapped. The girl jerked her face towards her employer. "Here's what you will do next."

As she spoke in a cunning, calculative tone, Shellie's face became more and more withdrawn and shrivelled up. The woman ruthlessly spoke; every word of hers like a sword on Shellie's being, making her wince. She knew she didn't stand a chance. She felt like a soldier from Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade. She, like those dutiful soldiers, had no choice.


	11. Hale Storm

Rialto Beach, Washington

"Bikinis, Falcon, are women's greatest tool." I announced. We had pitched a mini-house itself on the beach, with a huge shelter. We had a huge table on which water, other drinks and fruits were kept. My two security men stood behind me in normal clothes. They each had chairs but they sat with their backs erect, alert. "They give you this… self-confidence, a boost to your ego, a sense of narcissism. One feels as if everyone is looking at her, and everyone would love to come and talk to her. Especially creatures of the male variety."

"I assure you, Ms Steele, you are absolutely right." Said Falcon wryly, looking at the number of men eyeing her.

"Of course I am. I always am right. You should know that by now." I said, smiling. "Now tell me, which of these fine men should I ask to help me put on my sunscreen lotion?" I was having a blast, taking time off for myself. I had forgotten what it felt like, indulging myself.

"None." He replied bluntly. "This is too open a place. I'm surprised that the paparazzi aren't here yet."

I gave noncommittal grunt. I was partly relieved, though. A few weeks after my one-night stand, I had been a mess. I couldn't believe that I had directly jumped into sex without actually knowing the person. I had fallen into a bout of remorse and moroseness which I hadn't been able to come out of, by my own. After the divorce, though, I felt I was betraying him by 'coming out' in the open again. Sure, there was a belligerent albeit practical part of my mind that said that there was no one to betray; and if anyone had done the betrayal, it was him. Yet, the nagging feeling of guilt persisted. Every time I thought of that night, the making out, the love-making and anything related to it, the guilt appeared in my mind. I was getting slightly annoyed with myself.

Living in my head was becoming difficult.

Change of topic, I thought. Dominic Edley seemed like the guy who understood exactly who he was speaking to and how to behave. I had immediately pegged him to be the cocky, over-confident type. He seemed like a complete player, who couldn't control himself. I was immediately wary. I had just fucked a man exactly like Christian – no commitments, more women. I didn't think the former was of the monogamous variety, though. Then again, Christian had not turned out to be monogamous, had he?

I leaned to the side and picked up a glass of cranberry juice and sipped it gratefully. The sweltering heat was certainly not facilitating my good mood.

At that moment, my phone rang. Falcon picked it up and frowned at the unknown number. "Anastasia Steele's phone." He said brusquely. "The clu-? Oh, yes, of course." He handed the phone to me, mouthing, 'Dominic'. I raised my brows and bit my lips, a sign of conflict in my brain.

"Edley," I said noncommittally. No, don't. Don't you dare come back, Guilt.

"Ana! I was afraid that guy would shove me away like hundreds of your other suitors." He joked.

"What do you want, Edley?" I said. I'm pushing you away now, and you will NOT come back, Guilt.

"Yeah, listen, I need a date for this charity function I was invited to. I am sure you were too. Would you like to come as my date?" He asked, appearing to not care about this at all.

"Which one is it?" I asked, my nose scrunched up with confusion. Do NOT glare at me that way. Don't sink your teeth into me, now.

"The Grey's." He said, a little mockingly as if daring her to accept. I paused for a few seconds.

"When is it?" I asked coldly. He chuckled. Go away, please. (Great strength of will applied) Yes! You are gone, you demon! Until next time!

"The sixteenth, this month." He said. I considered his words. I was free on the sixteenth.

"Okay, I'll see you, then. I will arrive directly at the venue." I said as turned the phone to cut the call, but I heard his voice continue.

"Wait! Can we plan something for... after? Dinner and... dessert, perhaps?" He asked in a seductive tone.

"We'll see." I said detachedly. I tossed the phone on my blanket with rage and disgust at myself. I stood up, brushing off the sand from her body. I ran my hand through my hair. "God!" I said, gritting my teeth. I kicked the stone in front of me with vengeance. I wanted to do it again, but I didn't want to. It didn't register to me until now that I was going to an event where Christian was going to be there. I wondered whether this was a punishment to me or to him.

Meanwhile…

Shellie Hale stood up, trembling slightly. Regret washed through her like a tidal wave. She didn't meet the older woman's eye, lest she found out about the hesitancy that was surely inundating her eyes. She nodded jerkily at her and walked towards the door. A knock at the door startled her.

"Come in!"Said the woman. A boy no more than twenty entered the room. He glanced at Shellie and then at the woman.

"You called for me, Mistress?" He inquired. The woman gave a strained smile as a feeling of horror mingled with disgust grew within Shellie.

"Yes, Peter. Shellie, close the door behind you, honey."

Shellie quickened her pace and closing the door behind her, hurried outside. She was gasping for breath by the time she was outside the gates. The scene that was just played- ugh, her choice of words had to be commended. The… incident that just took place brought about revulsion within her. She couldn't believe that a person could be so twisted.

Anyway, she brought her head back to her assigned job. She picked up her phone as she walked on the pavement and searched for the name of a journalist. She called him up and held the phone near her ear.

"Hi, this is Shellie. Shellie Hale. I believe I will be able to tell you the reason why the Greys divorced, three years ago… Yes… yes." She breathed deeply. Then, summoning all the theatre training she had received, she put a winning smile on her face. I'm sorry, Mr Grey. "Yeah, I thought you might be interested…"

Two Hours Later

Christian Grey had sworn to himself that he wouldn't touch any woman or form of spirit unless a certain woman re-entered his life or gave her express permission that he could do so. If it meant abstinence, from everything, then he would do it. It was a form of penance. But he had already broken the alcohol rule. And he had ended up doing mad things. As he collapsed on the sofa in front of the television, he felt the irresistible urge towards that top drawer in the kitchen again, which had been his solace a couple of weeks ago.

He was undergoing a personal 'shitgasm', a climax of shittiness. He was trying to make sense of what he had done, of what had ended his marriage. Inevitably, the answer lay in the drug that Shellie had given him. She was the one who was with him every single night that he had driven Ana to the brink of her sanity. He had observed that very closely, verifying it with the videos in his office. Shellie Hale was the answer to his questions. Why the fuck had that deranged woman done that to him? There you go, putting the blame on someone else again, his conscience told him. It was your fault for cheating on Ana in the first place. If you hadn't been such a cheating dick, then all of this would never have happened.

Realising that he was going deep into 'regret mode', he jerked back from his reverie and switched on his television and tuned it to the news channel. His heart jumped to his throat; his heart rate increased and his eyes widened.

A reporter sat behind a desk and photographs of him and Ana at various dinners, charity functions and award ceremonies appeared on the screen. Then, a more recent one at the award ceremony.

"…Hale, who works for the prestigious PR company, admits that the affair went on for nearly three years, during which, she said, Christian Grey was nothing like the man he was portrayed to be. An email accidentally left open at Grey's computer at his residence was read by the now Ms Steele which ultimately led to the sad split…"

"Fuck!" Christian swore agitatedly. "Fuck you, Hale!"

"You already did." Taylor said quietly. Christian, who hadn't noticed his presence, jumped.

"Taylor," he growled. "Not the time for wisecracks. Give me a phone." He demanded. Taylor fished his pocket and handed it over to Christian silently. Christian feverishly dialled Ana's number. Pick it up, please.

"Anastasia Steele's phone." That dratted man had answered the phone.

"Christian Grey. Put her on phone immediately!" He said hurriedly.

"Ms Steele… um… is having a shower. Can I take a message?" He said, discomfited.

"Well, it's an emergency! I don't care where she is! Hand over the phone to her!" He yelled, slightly hysterical.

"Sir, Ms Steele trusts me with her life. Surely she would with an emergency? Besides, I will be in the thick of it, sooner or later." Said Falcon, slightly annoyed. Taylor grabbed the phone from Christian.

"This is Jason Taylor, Head of Security speaking. Mr Falcon, the reason behind the Greys' divorce has been publicised by the other… uh… woman, Shellie Hale. Mr Grey just wanted to provide a word of caution." He said.

"Thank you. I shall pass on the news to Ms Steele and do the necessary." Falcon said and ended the call. Taylor returned the phone to his pocket. Christian sank back on the sofa, muttering – "What do I do, what do I do?"

He sprang up and walked to the glass wall of his. A row of reporters stood in front of the gates. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Alert the PR team. Inform my parents and the rest of my family. Increase security at all offices. No reporter should enter any building of mine. Damage control, Taylor." Taylor nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and about the charity fun- never mind. You go on."

Half an Hour Later…

I strapped on my cream coloured wedges and adjusted the straps. I stood up, opened the door and stepped out, beaming. Falcon stood there, looking sombre. I recognised the expression.

"What happened? Is it Ted?"

"Shellie Hale…" I stiffened. "…has gone public. She has revealed the details of the affair to the media. Every website, every TV channel has been running the same news for the past hour."

"Hour?!" I screeched. "It has been going on for an hour and no one thought to tell me?!" I turned away from him and climbed down the stairs hurriedly. Falcon followed me, muttering apologies. I stopped in front of the television and switched it on. As I saw my history being rehashed and every dirty secret that Shellie Hale was pouring out of her vile mouth, my hand went up to my mouth. "Oh, sweet Jesus." I whispered, collapsing on the chair.

Suddenly, my gears, which had stopped working for a few seconds, restarted with renewed vigour. Falcon watched as the expression on my face changed.

"Double security in all my offices. I don't want any sneaky bastard sniffing around there. Mike," I looked at the third personal guard of hers. "Attend to the calls. Your job is to keep 'no comment'-ing. Put Blake on line. Alert the PR team, just in case. And Falcon, restrain the press as much as you can."

I was handed a phone with Blake on the other end. "Blake, pick Ted up after school, clear his schedule. Remind the school of the confidentiality contract that we signed. Don't tell him a thing. If he asks questions, tell him that I'll come home later and explain everything. That goes for you too Mike, and Joanna too. And remember to cut his access to the media." I ordered and cut the call. In an undertone, I muttered, "I hate hiding this from him."

I then pulled out my own phone as Falcon and Brandon snapped into action. I called Dominic Edley up. He answered on the second ring. "Ana. Hey."

"I am leaving now. We will reach together at five thirty sharp and make our entry together." I said, point blank.

"Alright." He answered. The clever man realised when not to speak.

"Okay. I will see you there." I said and cut the call. Falcon then spoke up, quietly.

"Is this an inappropriate time to tell you that it was Mr Grey who warned us about this in the first place?"

I gave him a look that would've left any other man pissing in his pants for a week.


	12. The Charitable Function

The press went crazy as I appeared once more with one of the country's most eligible bachelors. Everyone had something to ask or say about the new revelation. As Edley and I walked up the stairs leading to the hall, I turned around to face the press. "Yes, I knew about the affair. No, that wasn't the reason I divorced him. No, the family didn't know of it until recently. No, my son does not know of it. This is a difficult time for the family and, even though I know that none of you fuckers will leave us alone, I request you to respect our privacy and get the hell off our property everywhere around Washington."

"I turned back around and took Dominic's hand as we walked into the hall. There were elegant chairs set up around many tables. There was a dais like structure put up in front of the arrangement. The room smelt divine, what with the lavenders, roses, freesia, jasmines and other sweet smelling flowers. I instantly calmed down, courtesy the peaceful ambience; and I breathed much easily when I sat down at a table.

"So... I gather this was a shock to you?" Dominic asked, raising his brows. "Did you know she was going to the media?"

"No, I didn't. If I did, the bitch wouldn't even be in a well enough state to talk now." I said vindictively.

"Ah." He said, looking at me with renewed respect for my merciless words. He silently assessed my tense posture. "I might seem like a callous dick, but um... you can dump your baggage for today if you want to."

"Thank you, but that's not necess- oh, for heaven's sake, can't they shut the fuck up?" I said furiously as the din of the paparazzi increased considerably. A minute later, I found out why.

Christian Grey had arrived at the function.

"Someone, get me a fucking aspirin!" I said loudly, aghast at the presence of the man who was the sole cause of all the misery in my life. Brandon rushed out to the limo and brought it for me. I looked at it with some surprise, but thanked him fervently for it.

"It's okay," Dominic said, smiling cockily. "He's not going to come over; he hates the sight of me. I had refused a proposition of his once. Guy couldn't get over it." I looked up from the napkin I was scrunching up. He saw that her eyes were strained and red from all the pressure. He took the napkin out and placed it on the table.

"Oh, calm down." He said breezily. "Don't kill the poor napkin because you are upset." As careless as his 'comforting' words sounded, I actually felt better at his attempt.

"I can handle all this bullshit. I can take all of it, but what I'm worried about is what I should tell my son." I confessed, wondering why on earth I was telling this strange man her story.

"Eight, isn't he? Oh, he'll be alright too. He isn't a baby. Kids are tough. They'll get through it." I glared at him. He looked amused. "Hey, I'm saying things as they are. You ought to be worried about your stock prices falling, not this shit. It's worthless worrying about this." I let out a little laugh.

"I can't believe you. Don't you have a personal life?" I asked him with disbelief.

"I do. Right now, it's you. But remember, when you're famous, nothing is ever personal or private. They even want to suck the thoughts from you." I smiled again and held his hand. He took that as an ice breaker and put his arm around her.

***  
In the past ten minutes, Christian went through so many emotionally conflicting thoughts which would have taken a normal person about an hour.

He was feeling extremely stressed because of all the 'Shellie' fiasco.

He was feeling guilty for having had an affair with her, and for having cheated on the most wonderful person on the planet.

He was feeling guilty for having subjected this particular person to media's glare more often than necessary in a lifetime. (That too, for all the wrong reasons)

He was feeling relieved that they had escaped the paparazzi and finally entered the hall.

He was feeling a mixture of horror and sadness as he spotted Ana from across the room. Perplexity was also one of the feelings at having sighted her.

He was feeling an unhealthy sense of curiosity at whom she had come there with. This could also be termed as jealousy, which he had no right to feel.

He was feeling devastated as he noticed the expression on her face, and knowing he was cause.

He was feeling acute jealousy to the point of pain as that bastard smiled at her and she looked back at him with a little smile.

He was feeling rage, blinding pure, unadulterated rage when he saw her squeeze his hand, something she had done previously only with him; and when he saw that son of a bitch put an arm around her.

As he sat at his table playing with his phone, Christian thought that Dr Flynn would have been proud of how he had been able to analyse, identify and determine the reasons behind the emotions. He kept glancing at the pair, who was now conversing normally as if they were in a bubble of their own. He didn't realise that most people in the room were glancing at him and Ana trying to extract some juicy gossip. He sighed, frustrated. If he didn't go and talk to her soon, he would explode. He felt annoyed that one woman had such enormous control over his life.

Thankfully, the old geezer on the podium had stopped speaking. He clapped politely along with the rest. Then the auction began. The guests were free to walk around and mingle. Christian sprang up and walked briskly towards her. He didn't know what he would say. All he was prepared for was some serious tongue-lashing by the shark.

I looked up hearing his footsteps. I noted with some surprise that I could still identify the sound of that. I mentally braced myself. Strangely, I didn't have it in me to be sharky today. I had a migraine.

He gave Dominic once-over – glaring at him with distaste, of course – and politely shook his hand. They gave each other the customary greetings. He turned to me. I nearly stumbled back at the amount of pain I saw in his eyes.

"Sorry doesn't cover it." He muttered. "I don't know what does, but all I know is that I… loathe myself. Especially now." He said, glancing at Dominic. "I… wanted to apologise. I never meant for any of this to happen, to cause you so much anguish.

I shook my head. "I don't give a damn about the publicity. I really don't. And why would you apologise for something you don't even know you did?" I asked him, sadly.

Christian looked at me warily. His head suddenly snapped back up. "What about Ted?" he asked fearfully.

"He will have to know. There's no other choice." Christian shook his head.

"No, who… who will tell him?" He asked worriedly. "I could do it if you want me to." He offered. I sighed.

"He will hate your guts later. And then hate you forever. He looks up to you so much. Handling the news coming from me will be much easier." I said tiredly.

"You're right. Tell him… tell him I'm sorry, for putting him through this and having the affair in the first place." He mumbled in an undertone. Dominic had tactfully left, proving that he did have a little bit of sensitivity. I nodded at him.

"Alright, Mr Grey." I said indulgently. I was so emotionally drained by the happenings; I didn't know how I would handle revealing the news to Ted. I sighed. "My date's waiting. Goodbye, Mr Grey."

(CPOV)

He was choked up and didn't trust himself to speak. He nodded once and watched the most beautiful woman turn around and leave. There was a dull throbbing pain in his heart. It hurt to hear her say only his last name. It hurt even more (strangely enough) that she hadn't yelled at him, but had merely looked disappointed and fatigued. That was more difficult to handle. He felt like a vulnerable, little boy all of a sudden. It didn't help that he had to fly back to a huge empty house.


	13. Everybody Hates Christian

"Vodka, Ma'am?" Brandon asked from the front seat in the car. I gave a strained smile and accepted it, gulping it up in one go. Brandon looked with wide eyes, but wisely didn't say anything. I looked pensively out of the window. Dominic had left by himself. I had apologised for declining his dinner invitation, saying that I had to take care of my son at the moment. I had promised him a date in the near future.

The gates of my house opened automatically and the car pulled in. Brandon opened the door and I stepped out. Clutching my purse, I entered the house. Ted was sitting on the kitchen slab. I stopped in front of him. He looked at me.

"You're back." He said, tentatively, assessing my mood. I nodded. Relieved, he went on. "Mom, what's going on? What are you all hiding from me?" He demanded exactly like his father. I couldn't restrain my tears anymore. I put a hand over my eyes and sobbed once. You don't know what he's thinking. Stop crying or he'll misinterpret it.

Ted was startled. He leaned forward and touched my hand. "Mom?" He said softly. I shook my head, reprimanding myself.

"I'll be back." I choked out. Minutes later, I had had a shower and was now ready – somewhat – to spill the beans to my son. He was now sitting in the living room. I smiled at him and sat next to him.

"I am not going to beat around the bush, Theo. The reason why your father and I split has been displayed to the whole world today." I said pausing. When he didn't say anything, I continued. "Your-father-was-having-an-affair-with-another-woman-and-I-found-out. That's why we divorced."

Ted continued to stare at his mother, his lips parting with a slight 'pop'. I breathed deeply, as if I had just run a marathon. It hurt to say that aloud, to admit it. Even after so much time, tears started gathering in my eyes, as I looked at Ted waiting expressionlessly for a reaction. After what seemed like aeons, I cleared her throat, breaking the tension like glass shattering on the floor.

Ted blinked finally. "You're serious." He said in a serious, very un-childlike voice. I didn't respond; it wasn't a question. He climbed off the couch and turned towards me. "If he ever asks me to take me out somewhere again, tell him I don't ever want to see him again." He said in a hollow, lifeless voice, like a person whose most fundamental beliefs were shattered.

"Ted, don't-" I began, desperately.

"Mom, don't. Not now." He cut in. He nearly ran upstairs to his room. I remembered my promise to Christian and hurried behind him.

"Ted. I met him today, at the auction. He says he is sorry that he did that, and he means it. He says that he is sorry that you have to go through this. Come on, don't be like this." I pleaded, a single tear leaking out from the corner of my eye, carrying with it a trail of black mascara. Ted didn't turn.

"Mom," he said breathlessly. "I don't care what he says. I care about what you say. You haven't forgiven him. I am only eight-" at this point, he reached his room and faced me. "-but I do understand that 'affair' is a really stupid, horrible thing to do. So, if you forgive him, I will forgive him. But now, I do not care what he says or thinks.

"I'm angry that he hurt you, mom. I saw it every day in the morning in your face, the sad look you gave me. Now I know he did that. I don't want to talk to anybody who makes you sad."

I stared at my son, more tears unwittingly falling from my eyes. I looked down at him and said, smiling. "For an eight year old, you are pretty articulate. Do they teach you that at school? Effectively conveying the point?" Ted didn't smile back.

"No. I learnt it from watching you and dad on TV." He said, his face twisting into an unpleasant grimace when he said the word 'dad'.

"Ted, please don't hate him. What happened is between him and me. I don't want this. I don't want to ruin your relationship with him. Why do you think I never told you all this while?"

Ted looked at her hard. "I don't want to talk about it now." he said, closing the door of his room. I didn't want to be a bawling wreck. I felt weak, felt like a sissy when I cried. I hadn't cried even once since I left for Tacoma the first time. I breathed deeply a couple of times and drank a glass of water, refusing to break down. When I became stable, I was proud of myself.

I whipped out my phone and dialled Christian's number. He picked up on the second ring. "An- Ms Steele." He said, some unidentifiable emotion in his voice.

"I told Ted. I never wanted this. I still despise you to an extent but I didn't want Ted to despise you. He became really angry and he… he said… he said he didn't want to meet you again, until I forgive you." I said. There was silence on the other side. Somehow, I could picture him squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose as he used to during any crisis.

"That's going to be never, I expect." He whispered. "Thank you, for telling me."

"Grey, just… just don't insult his intelligence by pampering him with materialistic gifts. You can't make up to him that way."

"I didn't intend to." He sounded surprised. "Christ, I know I've been an ass, but I think I know my son well enough to handle him in such situations." There was the condescending tone again. The marine carnivore rose from its long slumber.

"Not well enough to not anger him by not cheating on his mother and abusing her, I think." I said, frustrated. This was the first time I had spoken of the abuse out loud. I kept the phone down angrily. The snarky, arrogant bastard. I wondered about his statement about the never forgiving him part. I wondered if he was right, because every time I saw him, I did feel like jumping his bones, but I could also see the belt cracking from his hand into the silence of the night.


	14. The Steele Inquisition

Shellie sat in the studio plastering a carefully constructed rueful smile on her face as she faced the television show host, but inside she was crumbling. For some time, she had revelled in her talent to trap one of the richest and most handsome men of America in her web of lies and acting. But then, she realised, truly, what she was doing. She was destroying a marriage; she was destroying the life of a blameless woman regardless of how much she was being paid for her acting as well as for her silence.

She was destroying the life of an innocent child, who needed – no – deserved a normal, happy childhood filled with love. As she thought about all this, her reluctance to bang the guy in his office increased. Her 'ethics' resurfaced. Her work efficiency decreased. To put it so blatantly in such mechanical terms was near hilarious. She was being paid a lot for all this, well enough to support her impoverished family.

"…feel?" chimed a voice from the opposite side. The interviewer and she were sitting on comfortable, plush beige couches. Shellie dragged her stray thoughts back into the room. She steadied her quivering smile straight and sat upright.

"Of course, when Chris- I'm sorry, Mr Grey dropped me like I meant nothing to him even after I was there for him during a very painful period when he was having trouble being married to the then Mrs Grey, it hurt." She choked back a fake sob. "I-it hurt a l-lot."

The host sympathetically drew out a Kleenex napkin and handed it to her. She took it, throwing a grateful look at her. "I sympathise with you. Perhaps we should take a short break…?" She offered. Shellie nodded slightly. The host turned to the camera cheerily announcing the break and relaxing back on the couch once the camera man gave a thumbs-up. The make-up artist hurried towards her to 'touch her up'.

Shellie stood up in a hurry and sniffed a couple of times. "I-I'm sorry." She said, doing a very good imitation of a person suffering from acute anxiety. "I really am. I-I have to go… I can't do this anymore." She turned and left the building leaving the woman gaping in the studio. She rushed outside, now really anxious about what to do. She had managed to pull of this stunt. Now, she was in a public place and the paps could arrive anytime to hound her. Or, God forbid, the Greys sent somebody to pick her up and soundlessly dump her in a ditch.

As that thought crossed a her mind, creepily enough, a man in a suit who clearly looked unmistakably like a bodyguard came in front of her suddenly. She was so startled that she dropped her purse and let out a short squeak. He murmured soundlessly, barely moving his lips. "Ms Hale. Ms Steele is expecting to meet you anytime now. Do follow me."

Like a cornered rabbit, she followed him, not able to think on her feet; not able to think at all. He led her to a black inconspicuous sedan and opened the door for her. Shellie beginning to tremble as she walked into the metaphorical lion – or, in this case, shark's – cage. She didn't know why she was doing it. She had had ample of chance to run away, but she hadn't taken it. She was captivated by a completely different sort of fear. She slid easily into the car. She looked around, afraid.

She saw Anastasia Steele sitting on the other end of the seat, gazing at her impassively, with cool, dark eyes. Shellie couldn't be bothered with introductions at this precarious situation. "What do you want from me?" She whispered hurriedly, desperately. She saw the deceptive, controlled rise and fall of Ana's chest, indicating that it wouldn't be fun to be inside her head at this point.

"Why did you do it?" Ana asked curtly, each word piercing through Shellie's conscience.

Shellie licked her dry lips and rasped, "Why?"

"Why did you fuck Christian Grey?" She asked bluntly. Shellie winced. This woman scared her. Very much.

"I… I… uh-"

"Your family… they need the money you get." Ana said, narrowing her eyes slightly. She observed her left eye twitch once. Her breath came out faster, in an imitation of a predator that has just caught scent of its hunt. "So someone is paying you for this. Who could it be?" Ana mused. "Was it to destroy our marriage? Obviously, but for what? Jealousy? Towards me or him?" Ana thought out loud as she looked far off into space. Suddenly, her gaze darted back to Shellie, who was watching her like a person in a trance. She jumped. "It was me? To destroy me?"

Shellie's lips now trembled.

"My word," Ana said, leaning towards her, a strange obsessed glint in her eye. "You're an open book, girl." She touched a expertly manicured nail to her chin, stroking it thoughtfully. "So who was it? Crazed stalker? Deranged ex? Busi- Lincoln?" Shellie appeared fearful, anticipating her next words and afraid that she would be helpless in giving away the carefully guarded secrets. Ana's eyes widened. Her finger fell from her chin. "Don't tell me. Elena fucking bitch troll Lincoln?"

Shellie's mouth opened with a slight pop. She was never like this. She was always collected, even among hotshots like Grey and Elena. This woman scattered her brain so much that it was unbelievable. She did something to her brain. The dark ambience with creepy violin music playing in the background, the tinted glasses, dangerous woman, it all seemed like a bad TV show, but the very presence of this woman sent her tumbling off the figurative cliff.

"Fucking Mrs Robinson." Ana whispered. Her eyes seemed unfocused. She seemed to realise Shellie's presence and said with quiet authority, "Falcon."

The black suit guy reappeared at the door. "This way, Ms Hale." He murmured. Taking her eyes of Ana Steele with great strength of will, she stepped out of the car, wondering whether this would later be known as the most crucial five minutes of her life.

I stood in the dark corner of the hall, contemplating in silent rage. Bitch Troll was a recurring phrase in my thoughts. I normally hated the dark and the uncertainty that came with it, but today, I was comfortable where I was, plotting my vindictive revenge in several ways which in no earthly way could be possible. I imagined comets, the Italian mob, a deranged serial killer as well as a spurned lover coming together to destroy every last shred of sanity, hope and life that existed within Elena Lincoln. I wondered whether I had to tell Grey. He would want to know. But some stubborn part of my mind said that I wasn't obliged to tell him.

Shaking my head, reprimanding myself for my immature and childish thoughts, I picked my phone out of my pocket and dialled his number. "Ms Steele," He answered the phone in a low voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing.

"Your Mrs Robinson was behind Shellie's torrid little affair with you. No wonder Shellie knew which buttons to push with you. Elena had you so putty in her hands." I said it with slight disdain. I filled him in about my confrontation with Shellie and all her unspoken revelations.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Christian swore. "Fucking bitch! Oh, God, Ana, I am so sorry. I… I have… I will take care of her. Appropriately. I promise." He said, growling like a wounded animal at the very thought of Elena.

I was silent. He had called her by her Christian name and somehow, I hadn't found the need to correct him. It was all a facade, a game. It was very foolish for two people who had been so close and intimate to treat each other as strangers all of a sudden. "So what do you intend to do with her?" I asked, wilfully calming my sudden nervousness. "Fuck her until she dies?"

It was meant to be a joke. I had said it with humour, but obviously it wasn't received that way. I heard him suck in his breath sharply. "Ana, I haven't looked below any woman's eyes, let alone touch her in the past three years. I haven't touched a drop of alcohol either."

"That's too bad." I said lightly. "As I recall, your carnal desires were not something to be restrained."

"Ana…" Christian whispered in hushed agony. I shut her eyes, massaging my forehead. I didn't like my body's reaction to his husky voice. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"Don't." I said, in a choked up voice. "You know, I thought I knew everything that needed to be known about you in bed during our early years, but somehow, you still managed to surprise me."

Unable to bear the tension any longer, I cut the call. My clammy hands released the phone and it fell to the ground. I made no attempt to pick it. My face was strained and my fists were clenched. I was rocking back and forth, a sure sign of my upset mental state. Slowly, I turned and made an effort to get a glass and pour some eighty year old wine into it.

My trembling hands didn't let me stay still. I gave up, too wracked emotionally to do anything. I dropped down to the floor, tired. I was tired of holding it together, tired of carrying everything, tired of taking responsibility, tired of taking care of myself all the time. I wanted someone to do the caring for a change, but I had too many terrible experiences to from which I had learnt not to hand over the reins to anyone. I couldn't stand the tension my body was in. I let out a shaky breath. Calm, Steele, calm. I told myself.

At that time, the main door creaked open. "Ana?" A familiar voice boomed. "It's Elliot! Welcome me home, sweetheart!" He looked around for me, his hands full of packages and presents. He found me on the floor, my hands wrapped around my chest, trying to hug myself so the pain would stay inside.

Elliot stared at me only for a second. He dropped all the packages and rushed towards the kitchen. He knelt down in front of me even as I was scrambling up to stand. He slowly unwound my hands and held them in his.

"Breathe deeply." He advised. I did as he directed. He looked into my eyes and said clearly, "Let it go. Let it all go." He enveloped my petite frame with his big bulky arms and hugged me. I shuddered once. Then I held on to him as if he were the last person on earth, trying not to feel like even though I had everything, I had nothing.


	15. Nightmare Sees Daylight

We found ourselves eventually pouring out alcohol and settling down in my study, conversing. Mia and Ethan were finally getting married after a ridiculously long engagement because things in the family had become righted. Sort of. Grace was contemplating starting her own private practice while Carrick was taking a short break from his work – unburden him of the stress and all that. Elliot had signed a contract with a big firm and it was going to make his bank account obese.

I relaxed against my seat, glad to have Elliot to pull me away from my dark thoughts. I smiled at his jokes and began to enjoy his company. His entire dorkishness was a refreshing change from my serious, work ridden life.

"…and so that's how Kate learnt not to tell Ava what to do, and Ava learnt to not draw on our beautiful creamy white walls how much ever she longed to." Elliot said with a big grin. I chuckled with amusement. Elliot was such a family man.

"So did you come to Tacoma only to meet me?" I asked, smiling. Elliot became serious. On seeing this, I sobered.

"I came to Tacoma for one reason only. Ana, listen to me. The family is very clear where we stand now. Everyone wants to apologise to you even though we know it's not enough at all. We know we don't deserve it. You were right. We should have trusted you and waited it out. We should have tried harder to reach out to you. We're all very, very sorry, Ana. Please, please forgive us." He said earnestly.

With Elliot, there never had been any lack of genuineness or credibility in what he spoke. He never kept anything from anyone. He didn't have a filter in his mouth – he said what came to his mind. I believed him when he said his speech. I ran my finger along the rim of the glass, looking down at it. "Everyone?" I asked pointedly.

"Everyone." He said firmly. "Particularly some." He said, hinting at Kate. I remained silent for a long time. When I looked up, his earnest expression hadn't changed.

"Look, Elliot. This can't happen soon. This…" I pointed vaguely at the space between us. "…is far too broken. I am far too broken. It is extremely difficult for me to forgive because I can't manage to reform relationships now. It is near impossible to mend the relationships because that's been some sort of a clean break. We were just… finished, you know." I explained to him, my chest squeezing with pain as I said these words. His face was ashen. "I will try. I can promise you that. But one thing I can say with certainty is that things will never return to the way they were before. Too much has changed." I said with a sense of finality.

More silence. I was beginning to feel awkward when he said, "I understand. I'm sure everyone will. We sort of expected it. What I want you to know is that none of us will ever stop trying to fix this. We owe this to you. More than that, we love you too much to let you go." He said fiercely. I rubbed my neck awkwardly.

"Thanks." I replied, not knowing what to say. Just then, Mike entered the room after knocking.

"Ma'am, I know I should tell you this once you enter the house, but I think you will want some time to prepare for this. Shellie Hale is here to see you." My brows shot up. Elliot swore once, ignorant of the interaction between us earlier today.

I slowly turned towards him. "Thank you, Mike." I murmured. "Well, this should be interesting. Which sheep wants to willingly meet the lion? A foolish one? Or a desperate one?" I said to myself. Elliot looked at me, bewildered. Falcon, who was in the room, understood.

"By the looks of it, probably a bit of both, Ma'am." He murmured back. We stood up together. I turned to Elliot.

"I'm sorry, but we need some privacy. I have already met this woman and I'm in no danger of killing her or her killing me." I said quietly. Elliot, smiling wryly, nodded and went upstairs. I walked to the drawing room, taking off my scarf slowly and set it aside on a table inside the room. "Ms Hale." I said, in a flat emotionless tone. Shellie jumped and stood up.

"Pl-please, C-call me Shellie." She said nervously. "I am here with a… proposition." I walked around the table in the middle and sat on the sofa opposite to Shellie.

"Do sit down." I said, waving my arm regally. "I am very curious and very interested." I leaned in, looking at my nemesis' ambassador intently. Shellie sat down shakily and fiddled with her glasses.

"I'll volunteer information – everything I know about this entire conspiracy. I'll testify against Elena Lincoln in court. I'll give you all the ammunition you need."

"In exchange for… protection?Or money? Both?" I asked shrewdly. Shellie's eyes widened with astonishment.

"Exactly." She whispered. "H-how-?"

"I run a big business, Shellie. One of the important things is to anticipate the next move of your opponent. I was actually expecting you." Shellie's jaw dropped. I sighed. The fear in the girl's eyes was making me feel sorry for her.

"Shellie, calm down. I won't take any legal or illegal action against you and neither will Mr Grey. You are only the medium. We attack the source. So yes, I accept your proposition. Funds have already been transferred to you and your family members' accounts. What now? What can you tell me other than share notes on Christian's sexual expertise?" I said matter-of-factly. I was almost kind.

Shellie had the grace to blush. She quickly recovered. "I… know quite a bit of her… illegal drug dealings and her sexual interactions with underage boys. She has also been embezzling money from Mr Grey as well as one other company." I didn't clearly hear the last part of what she said. My breath was coming out faster and blood was rushing to my face. I was extremely angry.

"I need proof." I bit out through gritted teeth. "Photographical or documentary evidence. Anything official. As soon as possible. And you will testify. I will not let that bitch get away with all this." Shellie nodded.

"Give me three days' time. All I ask for is protection from Elena Lincoln. I will work for you and help you get your revenge." She declared. She began to stand, but I pinned her down with my gaze. She slowly sat back.

"What about my revenge, with you? Elena orchestrated this, but you had sex with my husband. You drugged him. You broke our marriage." I said, calmly. Shellie's lower lip trembled.

"I did not. Your husband ended your marriage, I did not. He was the one who didn't have the courage to be a man and salvage the situation. He was the one unfaithful enough to continue having sex with another woman for three years. I must confess, in the middle of all of it, I began feeling immensely guilty for all the damage I had done to three innocent people, to their peace and happiness and to the upbringing of a child. I began hesitating to meet up with him, but he insisted.

"Elena threatened to have my family killed. So I did the next best thing. I led you to find out so I could end this charade. I hoped that you would have it in one small corner of your heart to accept him and forgive him, but even I knew that that was a far stretch. I sent the email, snuck into your house and opened his computer, hoping this would work. Before that, I had tried putting women's perfume on him, tried sending you many clues, but you were far too gone to notice such things.

"The reason I'm helping you is because I want to do the right thing. I also respect the way you bounced back and admire you a lot, which is why I came to you and not Mr Grey. I never loved him, Ms Steele. And he never loved me. I don't think he even cared for me." Shellie had stood up and was clutching at her glasses so hard that it broke during this impassioned speech.

I reached down and took a glass of vodka from the table. My heart was thumping inside, whilst I felt the truth ringing from every word uttered by her. But I was too proud to show that she was right. "I shall want to hear from you in three days." I said, not even looking at her. Falcon took that as a cue and approached Shellie.

"I think it's time for you to leave." He said, leading her out the front gate. He signalled to a guy in the security team and asked him to be her requested protection.

Elliot entered the room, looking aghast. "Elena? Elena Lincoln? Mom's friend?" I barely looked up.

"Elliot, sometimes you have the maturity of a five year old." I said, taking out a cigarette from my purse. I lit it with my fancy lighter.

"You smoke now?" He asked, shocked. "What is happening to the world I live in?!"

"You should be glad I haven't resorted to drugs. They… are kind of a no-no for me." I said complacently. Elliot walked up to me and grabbed the cigarette from my hand.

"Hey!" I protested, enraged. "I'm a legal adult! I can do whatever the fuck I want!" I glared at him.

"You, little sister, are not going to destroy your life, because my idiot brother cheated on you." He scolded me, throwing the cigarette into a bin. "What is wrong with you? You are a beautiful, intelligent, capable woman. You have the world at your feet. You can have anything in the world! Why the fuck aren't you enjoying this position you hold? Why are you letting your past rule your life?!" He yelled at me.

"Because I need it, Elliot! Like a fish needs water! The hell that I go through because of your brother is equal to the hell I go through running a massive company! And raising a child! Do you know how scary it is to be powerful? If I need to straighten my back and face all this shit, I need something like this to hold me together! Otherwise I would have crumbled months ago under the pressure and gotten myself admitted into rehab or a mental institution or something!" I shouted, my chest heaving. Elliot stared at me, aghast.

"What on earth happened to you?" He nearly shouted. "I mean…" He ran his hand through his hair. "Explain everything to me. I don't understand why you have become like this."

"I already told your sister. If I begin explaining, I will ruin your peace of mind too." I said wryly.

"Stop it, Ana! Stop being so… masochistic!" He said.

We heard the main door close. "Uncle Elliot?" Ted said from afar, his voice filled with wonder. Impassioned Elliot transformed into Playful Elliot as Ted entered the room.

"Hey, buddy!" Elliot whooped and swung his nephew up in the air. Ted was laughing.

"How come you're in town?" He asked, surprised.

"I came to see you, Tedster!" He replied with a big grin.

"Uh-huh." Ted said, doubtfully. "Don't call me that. It's lame." Elliot just grinned at me. I smiled somewhat hesitantly at Ted, anxious of his state of mind. Ted mumbled something incoherently and ran upstairs to his room. Elliot watched him exit the scene as quickly as he entered. My heart shattered even more, if that was even possible. This was all my fault. I could have protected him better.

"What's up with him?" He asked, frowning disapprovingly. I sighed sadly. I didn't want to say anything but it looked like Elliot wouldn't let me go without getting some or the other information out of me.

"He has been like that since I told him about his father's… indiscretion. I want him to let it go and he's angry at me for not letting him hate his father in peace." Elliot looked at me shrewdly, as if he noticed that I consciously refrained from speaking out loud Christian's name. He suddenly turned around and ran upstairs before Ana could stop him.

"Elliot! Don't! He'll adjust and settle down! Don't interfere!" I shouted.

"The kid needs a father figure when he has disowned his own, Ana. Leave this to me. I know how boys are at this age. I'll handle him." He marched to Ted's room and knocked thrice. I waited right ehind him, ready to intervene in case things got out of hand. There was a pause in the noise being created within.

"Come in." Came Ted's muffled voice. Elliot entered the room looking suitably stern. He sat down on the bean bag with a loud whoosh.

"Sit down, Ted." Elliot said. "We need to talk." Red flags seemed to go up in Ted's mind. Warily, he sat down on his bed. "Do you know why your mother began that company of hers?" Elliot asked. Ted thought for a moment and shook his head. "Do you know why she works seven days a week, fifty-six weeks a year?" He shrugged.

"To make money, I guess?" He said. I nearly laughed out loud at his innocence.

"Why? Why make all that money when you can live on a lot less? Do you know why she is stressed all the time? Do you know why she moved out of Seattle? Do you know why she interacts with Christian even after all that he did?" He asked Ted, now getting louder and more intense. I wanted to enter and stop him then, but he was on a roll.

"I don't know." Ted said quietly.

"It was for you. It is for you! She wants you to be happy. She wants you to have all the comforts in the world and grow up to be a good kid. She wants you to go to the best of all colleges and pursue what you love. She wants you to have no regrets and live life to the fullest. She wants you to not have to work too hard and struggle for money when you are an adult. She wants you to maintain a good relationship with your father, at the same time not-" At this point, I had to intervene. An eight year old could not handle this.

"Enough, Elliot. That's enough." I said.

Elliot had stood up midway and was pacing across the room. He stared at me heatedly. "Do you want him to grow up without knowing where he's making mistakes?" He asked me. Ted looked properly chastened. He was looking at his feet.

"He's eight!" I shouted. "How he is behaving, regardless of how it affects everyone, is perfectly justified!" Elliot looked angry. He turned his gaze on Ted.

"I… I didn't know." My son mumbled. Elliot continued glaring but relaxed. He rubbed his face once.

"And you aren't supposed to." Elliot sighed wearily. "Look, kid, the reason I told you this is to ask you to treat your mom right, treat your girlfriends right, treat people in general who care for you right. Not for you repay or forcefully have to give gratitude to her. You don't take bullshit from anyone, but you value every good thing they do to you, and you notice such things. Okay? Now what are you going to do about this situation?"

"Say sorry to mom." Ted recited.

"Now, I don't want you to say this because I told you to, but because you want to. Do you want to?" Elliot asked. Ted nodded his head. "Okay. Now go on." He said. Ted got up from the bed and came running to me. He threw his little hands around my waist. I squeezed my eyes hut and pulled him closer to me.

"Mom?" He said, timidly, looking up at me. I looked at him.

"Don't listen to Uncle Elliot. He can be an ass sometimes." I said, smiling. He shook his head.

"He wasn't an ass. He said exactly what… dad would have said if he were. Except dad doesn't follow the things Uncle Elliot said." Ted still had problems with calling Christian dad. I frowned. "Mom, I'm sorry. I love you." He said, unsure of what else to say.

I smiled again and kissed his forehead. "That's okay, baby boy. You take your time with dealing with dad, but I expect you to talk to him someday. Soon, alright?" I said, smoothing his unruly hair. He nodded hesitantly and jumped of my lap and ran away like all men from emotional confrontations. Elliot exited his room. He saw my face all rigid.

He stood in front of me and held my hand. "Kate would hate it if I came back without solving your problems. I'm not leaving until this is over." He said.

"You know, I keep thinking that I'll get better, that all this shit will go away, but they have this fucking annoying tendency to weasel back all the time. A week ago, I had decided to have the time of my life to make up for three years of hard work and dreariness, but Shellie Hale came up. I don't know when this drama will end, but I do know that until it does, I can't be at peace." I said angrily.

"Don't be like that. It will go away, you'll see." He said. I didn't reply. Wordlessly, I headed towards the stairs and retired into my study.

A silent dinner followed the tension filled evening. I refused to answer any of Elliot's questions, deflecting and evading them. As always, I avoided the problem and instead of facing it, I immersed myself in work. I didn't want to face that vulnerability again, and rely on Elliot again because heaven knows how long he was going to stay by my side. I wanted to regain what little control I had lost over my emotions and over the situations. I would be the controller of this little game we were playing and Elena Lincoln would be chopped off like a tribute in a Gamemaker's arena.

After sealing a few deals, signing documents and indirectly finishing up some tax business, I stretched on the couch in my office, the laptop on, well, my lap and a glass of vodka on the table in front of me. It was nearing eleven thirty. I had long before tucked Ted into bed. I only had to see to my guest's needs. The nocturnal, environmental ones, that is. I walked to the drawing room and he was watching clips Shellie's interview with some news channel. I raised my brows when he turned to look at me. He had changed to his night clothes and was lying on the couch opposite the TV. He sat straight and patted on the couch next to him. I went and sat next to him.

"All done?" He asked, looking at me. I nodded.

"Well, big day tomorrow. We are signing a contract with a big client. Got to get my beauty sleep." I said a tad chirpily. No need to mention that there was no possible way that I could get a night's restful sleep. Elliot narrowed his eyes.

"You have got to answer my questions at some point, you know. You can't escape me forever." He said accusingly. I smiled.

"Forever is a long time, Elliot." I said. "If everything you need is there and you're comfortable, I shall retire to my bedchamber." Elliot smirked at my lofty tone.

"If that is all, your highness, I shall dismiss myself to mine." He said with a bad British accent, taking a ridiculously low bow. I laughed. Bidding him good night, I went to my room and tried to sleep. Sleep, I did, except not restfully. My sleep always wore me out.

I didn't realise how careful I should be with an adult who possesses a fully developed cortex in the house. His room was right across mine while Ted's were in the far end. I was usually conscious of what i was doing while having a nightmare, don't ask me how. Maybe because I was usually half asleep. I began tossing and turning. In my mind, I could hear footsteps climbing upstairs. I could now see a silhouette at the door from where I was sleeping. In reality, the whimpering began.

The fear overtook me. I began feeling paralyzed, immobile. Christian coming near the bed, taking off his clothes. His belt. Him dropping his trousers down. The horror of it all replaying started off the waterworks in my eyes. I began crying loudly and shouting at the imaginary Christian to stop whatever he was doing, to stop hurting me, to stop... abusing me. I felt suffocated as the dream took a realistic quality and I screamed, hoping to put an end to the misery.

I heard the door click open loudly and someone run in. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was grasping my head in insane, irrational terror. I glanced up and I whimpered and sobbed, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. He looked at me with some sort of horror. "Ana, oh, my god. Ana, Ana. It's okay, you are safe. No one's going to hurt you here, you're totally safe." He got on the bed and pulled my taut, stiff, unyielding body to his chest. Slowly, he managed to unfurl my fingers from my head and bring them down, and then around hi*m.

I began to ramble about how I was so afraid that he would use his belt again and destroy another bed lamp on me. How I was afraid he would rut into me again mercilessly. I never mentioned who 'he' was, but that was probably pretty obvious to him. I just babbled on mindlessly, occasionally mistaking Elliot for a part of my nightmare, asking him to go away. Elliot listened to all of it quietly. He didn't respond or react. He just held me until I was ready to let go. I fell asleep gradually. He must have tucked me in and gone to bed himself. Strangely, the dream didn't recur. I was grateful for his company that had done me wonders.

The next morning, Elliot stood by the kitchen counter and looked at me strangely. I didn't return his gaze and pretended to ignorantly go about my business. When I was ready to enter my car and leave, he announced, "I'm meeting Christian today. Do you have anything to say to him?" It was a challenge, a dare. I could see it in his eyes

"Don't," I pleaded with him somewhat desperately. "Please don't tell him anything." We found ourselves eventually pouring out alcohol and settling down in my study, conversing. Mia and Ethan were finally getting married after a ridiculously long engagement because things in the family had become righted. Sort of. Grace was contemplating starting her own private practice while Carrick was taking a short break from his work – unburden him of the stress and all that. Elliot had signed a contract with a big firm and it was going to make his bank account obese.

I relaxed against my seat, glad to have Elliot to pull me away from my dark thoughts. I smiled at his jokes and began to enjoy his company. His entire dorkishness was a refreshing change from my serious, work ridden life.

"…and so that's how Kate learnt not to tell Ava what to do, and Ava learnt to not draw on our beautiful creamy white walls how much ever she longed to." Elliot said with a big grin. I chuckled with amusement. Elliot was such a family man.

"So did you come to Tacoma only to meet me?" I asked, smiling. Elliot became serious. On seeing this, I sobered.

"I came to Tacoma for one reason only. Ana, listen to me. The family is very clear where we stand now. Everyone wants to apologise to you even though we know it's not enough at all. We know we don't deserve it. You were right. We should have trusted you and waited it out. We should have tried harder to reach out to you. We're all very, very sorry, Ana. Please, please forgive us." He said earnestly.

With Elliot, there never had been any lack of genuineness or credibility in what he spoke. He never kept anything from anyone. He didn't have a filter in his mouth – he said what came to his mind. I believed him when he said his speech. I ran my finger along the rim of the glass, looking down at it. "Everyone?" I asked pointedly.

"Everyone." He said firmly. "Particularly some." He said, hinting at Kate. I remained silent for a long time. When I looked up, his earnest expression hadn't changed.

"Look, Elliot. This can't happen soon. This…" I pointed vaguely at the space between us. "…is far too broken. I am far too broken. It is extremely difficult for me to forgive because I can't manage to reform relationships now. It is near impossible to mend the relationships because that's been some sort of a clean break. We were just… finished, you know." I explained to him, my chest squeezing with pain as I said these words. His face was ashen. "I will try. I can promise you that. But one thing I can say with certainty is that things will never return to the way they were before. Too much has changed." I said with a sense of finality.

More silence. I was beginning to feel awkward when he said, "I understand. I'm sure everyone will. We sort of expected it. What I want you to know is that none of us will ever stop trying to fix this. We owe this to you. More than that, we love you too much to let you go." He said fiercely. I rubbed my neck awkwardly.

"Thanks." I replied, not knowing what to say. Just then, Mike entered the room after knocking.

"Ma'am, I know I should tell you this once you enter the house, but I think you will want some time to prepare for this. Shellie Hale is here to see you." My brows shot up. Elliot swore once, ignorant of the interaction between us earlier today.

I slowly turned towards him. "Thank you, Mike." I murmured. "Well, this should be interesting. Which sheep wants to willingly meet the lion? A foolish one? Or a desperate one?" I said to myself. Elliot looked at me, bewildered. Falcon, who was in the room, understood.

"By the looks of it, probably a bit of both, Ma'am." He murmured back. We stood up together. I turned to Elliot.

"I'm sorry, but we need some privacy. I have already met this woman and I'm in no danger of killing her or her killing me." I said quietly. Elliot, smiling wryly, nodded and went upstairs. I walked to the drawing room, taking off my scarf slowly and set it aside on a table inside the room. "Ms Hale." I said, in a flat emotionless tone. Shellie jumped and stood up.

"Pl-please, C-call me Shellie." She said nervously. "I am here with a… proposition." I walked around the table in the middle and sat on the sofa opposite to Shellie.

"Do sit down." I said, waving my arm regally. "I am very curious and very interested." I leaned in, looking at my nemesis' ambassador intently. Shellie sat down shakily and fiddled with her glasses.

"I'll volunteer information – everything I know about this entire conspiracy. I'll testify against Elena Lincoln in court. I'll give you all the ammunition you need."

"In exchange for… protection?Or money? Both?" I asked shrewdly. Shellie's eyes widened with astonishment.

"Exactly." She whispered. "H-how-?"

"I run a big business, Shellie. One of the important things is to anticipate the next move of your opponent. I was actually expecting you." Shellie's jaw dropped. I sighed. The fear in the girl's eyes was making me feel sorry for her.

"Shellie, calm down. I won't take any legal or illegal action against you and neither will Mr Grey. You are only the medium. We attack the source. So yes, I accept your proposition. Funds have already been transferred to you and your family members' accounts. What now? What can you tell me other than share notes on Christian's sexual expertise?" I said matter-of-factly. I was almost kind.

Shellie had the grace to blush. She quickly recovered. "I… know quite a bit of her… illegal drug dealings and her sexual interactions with underage boys. She has also been embezzling money from Mr Grey as well as one other company." I didn't clearly hear the last part of what she said. My breath was coming out faster and blood was rushing to my face. I was extremely angry.

"I need proof." I bit out through gritted teeth. "Photographical or documentary evidence. Anything official. As soon as possible. And you will testify. I will not let that bitch get away with all this." Shellie nodded.

"Give me three days' time. All I ask for is protection from Elena Lincoln. I will work for you and help you get your revenge." She declared. She began to stand, but I pinned her down with my gaze. She slowly sat back.

"What about my revenge, with you? Elena orchestrated this, but you had sex with my husband. You drugged him. You broke our marriage." I said, calmly. Shellie's lower lip trembled.

"I did not. Your husband ended your marriage, I did not. He was the one who didn't have the courage to be a man and salvage the situation. He was the one unfaithful enough to continue having sex with another woman for three years. I must confess, in the middle of all of it, I began feeling immensely guilty for all the damage I had done to three innocent people, to their peace and happiness and to the upbringing of a child. I began hesitating to meet up with him, but he insisted.

"Elena threatened to have my family killed. So I did the next best thing. I led you to find out so I could end this charade. I hoped that you would have it in one small corner of your heart to accept him and forgive him, but even I knew that that was a far stretch. I sent the email, snuck into your house and opened his computer, hoping this would work. Before that, I had tried putting women's perfume on him, tried sending you many clues, but you were far too gone to notice such things.

"The reason I'm helping you is because I want to do the right thing. I also respect the way you bounced back and admire you a lot, which is why I came to you and not Mr Grey. I never loved him, Ms Steele. And he never loved me. I don't think he even cared for me." Shellie had stood up and was clutching at her glasses so hard that it broke during this impassioned speech.

I reached down and took a glass of vodka from the table. My heart was thumping inside, whilst I felt the truth ringing from every word uttered by her. But I was too proud to show that she was right. "I shall want to hear from you in three days." I said, not even looking at her. Falcon took that as a cue and approached Shellie.

"I think it's time for you to leave." He said, leading her out the front gate. He signalled to a guy in the security team and asked him to be her requested protection.

Elliot entered the room, looking aghast. "Elena? Elena Lincoln? Mom's friend?" I barely looked up.

"Elliot, sometimes you have the maturity of a five year old." I said, taking out a cigarette from my purse. I lit it with my fancy lighter.

"You smoke now?" He asked, shocked. "What is happening to the world I live in?!"

"You should be glad I haven't resorted to drugs. They… are kind of a no-no for me." I said complacently. Elliot walked up to me and grabbed the cigarette from my hand.

"Hey!" I protested, enraged. "I'm a legal adult! I can do whatever the fuck I want!" I glared at him.

"You, little sister, are not going to destroy your life, because my idiot brother cheated on you." He scolded me, throwing the cigarette into a bin. "What is wrong with you? You are a beautiful, intelligent, capable woman. You have the world at your feet. You can have anything in the world! Why the fuck aren't you enjoying this position you hold? Why are you letting your past rule your life?!" He yelled at me.

"Because I need it, Elliot! Like a fish needs water! The hell that I go through because of your brother is equal to the hell I go through running a massive company! And raising a child! Do you know how scary it is to be powerful? If I need to straighten my back and face all this shit, I need something like this to hold me together! Otherwise I would have crumbled months ago under the pressure and gotten myself admitted into rehab or a mental institution or something!" I shouted, my chest heaving. Elliot stared at me, aghast.

"What on earth happened to you?" He nearly shouted. "I mean…" He ran his hand through his hair. "Explain everything to me. I don't understand why you have become like this."

"I already told your sister. If I begin explaining, I will ruin your peace of mind too." I said wryly.

"Stop it, Ana! Stop being so… masochistic!" He said.

We heard the main door close. "Uncle Elliot?" Ted said from afar, his voice filled with wonder. Impassioned Elliot transformed into Playful Elliot as Ted entered the room.

"Hey, buddy!" Elliot whooped and swung his nephew up in the air. Ted was laughing.

"How come you're in town?" He asked, surprised.

"I came to see you, Tedster!" He replied with a big grin.

"Uh-huh." Ted said, doubtfully. "Don't call me that. It's lame." Elliot just grinned at me. I smiled somewhat hesitantly at Ted, anxious of his state of mind. Ted mumbled something incoherently and ran upstairs to his room. Elliot watched him exit the scene as quickly as he entered. My heart shattered even more, if that was even possible. This was all my fault. I could have protected him better.

"What's up with him?" He asked, frowning disapprovingly. I sighed sadly. I didn't want to say anything but it looked like Elliot wouldn't let me go without getting some or the other information out of me.

"He has been like that since I told him about his father's… indiscretion. I want him to let it go and he's angry at me for not letting him hate his father in peace." Elliot looked at me shrewdly, as if he noticed that I consciously refrained from speaking out loud Christian's name. He suddenly turned around and ran upstairs before Ana could stop him.

"Elliot! Don't! He'll adjust and settle down! Don't interfere!" I shouted.

"The kid needs a father figure when he has disowned his own, Ana. Leave this to me. I know how boys are at this age. I'll handle him." He marched to Ted's room and knocked thrice. I waited right ehind him, ready to intervene in case things got out of hand. There was a pause in the noise being created within.

"Come in." Came Ted's muffled voice. Elliot entered the room looking suitably stern. He sat down on the bean bag with a loud whoosh.

"Sit down, Ted." Elliot said. "We need to talk." Red flags seemed to go up in Ted's mind. Warily, he sat down on his bed. "Do you know why your mother began that company of hers?" Elliot asked. Ted thought for a moment and shook his head. "Do you know why she works seven days a week, fifty-six weeks a year?" He shrugged.

"To make money, I guess?" He said. I nearly laughed out loud at his innocence.

"Why? Why make all that money when you can live on a lot less? Do you know why she is stressed all the time? Do you know why she moved out of Seattle? Do you know why she interacts with Christian even after all that he did?" He asked Ted, now getting louder and more intense. I wanted to enter and stop him then, but he was on a roll.

"I don't know." Ted said quietly.

"It was for you. It is for you! She wants you to be happy. She wants you to have all the comforts in the world and grow up to be a good kid. She wants you to go to the best of all colleges and pursue what you love. She wants you to have no regrets and live life to the fullest. She wants you to not have to work too hard and struggle for money when you are an adult. She wants you to maintain a good relationship with your father, at the same time not-" At this point, I had to intervene. An eight year old could not handle this.

"Enough, Elliot. That's enough." I said.

Elliot had stood up midway and was pacing across the room. He stared at me heatedly. "Do you want him to grow up without knowing where he's making mistakes?" He asked me. Ted looked properly chastened. He was looking at his feet.

"He's eight!" I shouted. "How he is behaving, regardless of how it affects everyone, is perfectly justified!" Elliot looked angry. He turned his gaze on Ted.

"I… I didn't know." My son mumbled. Elliot continued glaring but relaxed. He rubbed his face once.

"And you aren't supposed to." Elliot sighed wearily. "Look, kid, the reason I told you this is to ask you to treat your mom right, treat your girlfriends right, treat people in general who care for you right. Not for you repay or forcefully have to give gratitude to her. You don't take bullshit from anyone, but you value every good thing they do to you, and you notice such things. Okay? Now what are you going to do about this situation?"

"Say sorry to mom." Ted recited.

"Now, I don't want you to say this because I told you to, but because you want to. Do you want to?" Elliot asked. Ted nodded his head. "Okay. Now go on." He said. Ted got up from the bed and came running to me. He threw his little hands around my waist. I squeezed my eyes hut and pulled him closer to me.

"Mom?" He said, timidly, looking up at me. I looked at him.

"Don't listen to Uncle Elliot. He can be an ass sometimes." I said, smiling. He shook his head.

"He wasn't an ass. He said exactly what… dad would have said if he were. Except dad doesn't follow the things Uncle Elliot said." Ted still had problems with calling Christian dad. I frowned. "Mom, I'm sorry. I love you." He said, unsure of what else to say.

I smiled again and kissed his forehead. "That's okay, baby boy. You take your time with dealing with dad, but I expect you to talk to him someday. Soon, alright?" I said, smoothing his unruly hair. He nodded hesitantly and jumped of my lap and ran away like all men from emotional confrontations. Elliot exited his room. He saw my face all rigid.

He stood in front of me and held my hand. "Kate would hate it if I came back without solving your problems. I'm not leaving until this is over." He said.

"You know, I keep thinking that I'll get better, that all this shit will go away, but they have this fucking annoying tendency to weasel back all the time. A week ago, I had decided to have the time of my life to make up for three years of hard work and dreariness, but Shellie Hale came up. I don't know when this drama will end, but I do know that until it does, I can't be at peace." I said angrily.

"Don't be like that. It will go away, you'll see." He said. I didn't reply. Wordlessly, I headed towards the stairs and retired into my study.

A silent dinner followed the tension filled evening. I refused to answer any of Elliot's questions, deflecting and evading them. As always, I avoided the problem and instead of facing it, I immersed myself in work. I didn't want to face that vulnerability again, and rely on Elliot again because heaven knows how long he was going to stay by my side. I wanted to regain what little control I had lost over my emotions and over the situations. I would be the controller of this little game we were playing and Elena Lincoln would be chopped off like a tribute in a Gamemaker's arena.

After sealing a few deals, signing documents and indirectly finishing up some tax business, I stretched on the couch in my office, the laptop on, well, my lap and a glass of vodka on the table in front of me. It was nearing eleven thirty. I had long before tucked Ted into bed. I only had to see to my guest's needs. The nocturnal, environmental ones, that is. I walked to the drawing room and he was watching clips Shellie's interview with some news channel. I raised my brows when he turned to look at me. He had changed to his night clothes and was lying on the couch opposite the TV. He sat straight and patted on the couch next to him. I went and sat next to him.

"All done?" He asked, looking at me. I nodded.

"Well, big day tomorrow. We are signing a contract with a big client. Got to get my beauty sleep." I said a tad chirpily. No need to mention that there was no possible way that I could get a night's restful sleep. Elliot narrowed his eyes.

"You have got to answer my questions at some point, you know. You can't escape me forever." He said accusingly. I smiled.

"Forever is a long time, Elliot." I said. "If everything you need is there and you're comfortable, I shall retire to my bedchamber." Elliot smirked at my lofty tone.

"If that is all, your highness, I shall dismiss myself to mine." He said with a bad British accent, taking a ridiculously low bow. I laughed. Bidding him good night, I went to my room and tried to sleep. Sleep, I did, except not restfully. My sleep always wore me out.

I didn't realise how careful I should be with an adult who possesses a fully developed cortex in the house. His room was right across mine while Ted's were in the far end. I was usually conscious of what i was doing while having a nightmare, don't ask me how. Maybe because I was usually half asleep. I began tossing and turning. In my mind, I could hear footsteps climbing upstairs. I could now see a silhouette at the door from where I was sleeping. In reality, the whimpering began.

The fear overtook me. I began feeling paralyzed, immobile. Christian coming near the bed, taking off his clothes. His belt. Him dropping his trousers down. The horror of it all replaying started off the waterworks in my eyes. I began crying loudly and shouting at the imaginary Christian to stop whatever he was doing, to stop hurting me, to stop... abusing me. I felt suffocated as the dream took a realistic quality and I screamed, hoping to put an end to the misery.

I heard the door click open loudly and someone run in. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was grasping my head in insane, irrational terror. I glanced up and I whimpered and sobbed, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. He looked at me with some sort of horror. "Ana, oh, my god. Ana, Ana. It's okay, you are safe. No one's going to hurt you here, you're totally safe." He got on the bed and pulled my taut, stiff, unyielding body to his chest. Slowly, he managed to unfurl my fingers from my head and bring them down, and then around hi*m.

I began to ramble about how I was so afraid that he would use his belt again and destroy another bed lamp on me. How I was afraid he would rut into me again mercilessly. I never mentioned who 'he' was, but that was probably pretty obvious to him. I just babbled on mindlessly, occasionally mistaking Elliot for a part of my nightmare, asking him to go away. Elliot listened to all of it quietly. He didn't respond or react. He just held me until I was ready to let go. I fell asleep gradually. He must have tucked me in and gone to bed himself. Strangely, the dream didn't recur. I was grateful for his company that had done me wonders.

The next morning, Elliot stood by the kitchen counter and looked at me strangely. I didn't return his gaze and pretended to ignorantly go about my business. When I was ready to enter my car and leave, he announced, "I'm meeting Christian today. Do you have anything to say to him?" It was a challenge, a dare. I could see it in his eyes

"Don't," I pleaded with him somewhat desperately. "Please don't tell him anything."


	16. Big Brother is Watching You

Christian planned on drinking himself into a stupor. It was either that or take some significant amount of morphine to give him the painless sleep he so desperately required in his current predicament. Man cheats on wife. Wife finds out. Wife divorces him. The Other Woman is a carefully orchestrated weapon by a scorned ex of the man to break up man and wife. Your typical cheat story. Add a bit more scandal, the paps, and some more interesting elements such as, say, drugs and abuse and you get your stereotypical TV show!

Christian snorted with disgust. His life was such a joke. His entire existence was such a joke. He was a shame to anyone he loved and anyone he was related to at this point. He wondered how to escape this situation. 'Not escape!' His inner voice hissed with repulsion and anger. 'Confront!' He was reverting back to the weakling he had been. That was one thing he was scrupulously trying to avoid. He shook his head with exasperation and walked out of his chamber to personally get himself a mug of coffee. Hey, even a powerful man such as him needed to do normal things sometimes.

He opened the door and stepped out right in time to see Elliot move out of the elevator that was in his line of vision. He was suddenly frozen on spot, wary, afraid and a little glad. Elliot spotted him from afar and his carefully impassive face crumbled into the one which could compete with the hulk's. His stride became faster and when he reached Christian, he didn't even allow his little brother to utter his name. He just lifted his hand and balled it up and, in front of his subordinates on that floor who would surely spread the news like wildfire, punched him on his jaw. The satisfying crunch he heard, he mentally dedicated to Ted.

Christian said nothing, knowing he deserved it.

Elliot grimaced. "For your six years of idiosyncratic behaviour. That was on behalf of... Let me see. Hmmm. Mom, dad, Mia, Ethan and ooh! Kate! And I wonder who else. Ah! Anastasia Steele and Ted!" He said faux enthusiastically.

"Let's adjourn inside." He said, hoarsely. He opened the door and let Elliot through before going in himself. More than common courtesy, the gesture was based on self-preservation. Elliot seated himself as Christian leaned against the glass wall behind the desk. "I am genuinely sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Listen you little twerp," Elliot hissed. "You do not get to be cocky. Your cockiness should have run out the moment she barged into your yearly conference and humiliated you in front of your associates and investors. Oh, yeah," he said with relish, at Christian's stunned expression. "I heard all about that. So you will pay attention and listen. How much ever you train with that Olympic wrestler, you will never be able to take me on. See, I'm much bigger and better. But I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to teach you a lesson you will remember, if karma treats you right, for your next seven lives. So you will shut up and listen to me.

"You have had five years of chances given to you. Five years to treat her right. Five years to mend fences. Five years to- Jesus Christ, man, after all that shit with your birth mother, I thought you would have learnt something. It never even occurred to me that YOU, Grace and Carrick's son, was capable of doing that. Shit." Elliot was now pacing around the room, like a caged leopard. He turned and looked at Christian with a distressed expression.

"You know she has nightmares? Fuck knows what you did, god damn you to hell. I saw her like that, helpless and alone, hiding all that shit from the world. She has had to hide all that shit from Ted too. Who knows how much agony and stress she is going through? I'm no specialist but I can wager she has PTSD, with all the nightmares and the depressed phases and all that."

Christian was looking at him with growing horror. This was news to him. He didn't know how to process this information other than to sorely regret his actions. He was helpless... To help her. He badly and desperately wanted to be by her side, to comfort her and hold her hand when she needed help. He needed a plan of action. And soon. "Look, Elliot, thank you for telling me this."

"Why do I sense a 'but' here?"

"But, I don't know what to do! She doesn't want me in her life. My son doesn't want me in his life. I'm willing to do anything to get back my family and recover all that was lost, but if she keeps pushing me away, what can I do? I'm powerless against that! What can I give her that she already doesn't have?" Elliot stared at his brother as if he were an idiot.

"I will pretend not to have heard parts of that. Christian, you built an empire of your own. You managed to love and be loved by one of the most intelligent and beautiful people I know. If you could do it once, you can do it again. Just don't fuck up this time. Or all of us will kill you. Literally. Familial love also has its limits.

Christian considered this and nodded. He understood. One step out of the line, and he would lose the support of his family forever. But for now, however reluctantly, they had extended their support.

A plan. That's what he needed. His objective was to de-stress Ana. Not to further distress her. So he had to attack the main problem. Elena Lincoln, the woman who had once saved his life, now Bitch Troll (in Ana's words), the woman who destroyed his life. She had somehow, in her perverse way, evened the odds in their relationship. Now it was time for vendetta. He was a billionaire who knew how to dig into people's secrets. A small smile appeared on his face. He lifted his phone and dialled a number as he watched Elliot exit the building from his glass wall. His call was answered.

"Welch. I need you to check on every single piece of data available on Elena Lincoln. This is a high priority search."


	17. Oops

Ted, these days, had a permanent frown marring his perfect, adorable features. He was angry all the time. And I couldn't bear it. I hadn't wanted my child to be exposed to all the cruel atrocities that life had to offer with a vindictive smile on a fucking silver platter. I hadn't wanted my child to hate a parent of his even with a solid reason.

I hadn't wanted my son, most importantly, to grow up like I did - with only one static parent whom I had to take care of most of the time. I loved him too much to see him hurt like this. It ate into me from inside out to see anything but a smile on his face. What was the point of owning so much in this world to provide for him, when I couldn't provide the most important thing - his happiness? Ted had to reconcile with his father. Otherwise, he would always be frustrated and angry with his father without an explanation coming right out of that bastard's mouth.

I didn't know how to orchestrate this meeting. That was another thing I had to add to my to-do list. Destroy Elena Lincoln's life. Resurrect my ex's and my son's relationship. Run a huge business enterprise. Handle my relationship with my until-recently-estranged family as delicately as a time bomb. Scare the life out of the woman my ex-husband cheated on me with. Blackmail people out of information. You know, just the regular things in any person's life.

Beep! Beep!

My phone buzzed incessantly. Annoyed, I answered it. I didn't like people disturbing me when I just liked to sit and think. "What?" I snapped. It was juicy Shellie, the irresistible dame that Christian could not help but bang.

"Ms Steele. I think I have everything you need. I cleared it up with your assistant. Is it okay if-"

"Three in the afternoon. I don't tolerate tardiness." I said curtly into the phone, and cut the call. Just then, Brandon entered the room.

"Ma'am, um... someone would like an audience with you." He said stupidly. I gave him a sarcastic look.

"Be vague, would you?" I said. "Do you think I'm fucking psychic?" He shifted from one leg to the other. Then he neared and stretched his hand to hand over a stiff white, fancy card.

"He gave me his card. Says he knows you very well." I smiled, amused and reached out for it.

"How positively Brit-" I stopped, stunned. John. John Flynn. Dr John Flynn. The 'charlatan'. For a moment, I just froze, staring at the card. My breath came out faster and my eyes widened.

"Do you want me to send him away?" He asked, a little confused. I actually contemplated to do that, but my cowardice was killed by my inner bitch. I shook my head shakily.

"Send-" I cleared my hoarse throat. "Send him in." I smoothed my skirt and crossed my legs. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the table and downed it in one go. They say that afternoon drinking can kill you. But so can an experienced shrink, who talks about your feelings and how important it is to acknowledge them. I needed that drink to survive the next hour or so.

Dr Flynn came barging into the room like Katrina. "I suggest you start talking right now." He said in a calm, yet deadly voice. He stood right in front of me and I leaned back to refrain from being intimidated by his very presence.

"It's good to see you too, John." I muttered. "Has it really been five years? Christ almighty, you haven't changed one bit!" Sarcasm dripped from my words very evidently. He frowned a little.

"Evasion. Not very subtle, Ana."

"Sit down, please. If you are here for a session, I'll gladly give you the satisfaction of one. But let me at least treat you like a proper houseguest. Whiskey?It's eighty years old. It's good." I offered. Flynn gazed at me intently. He then walked a few steps back and settled back on a chair.

"You have changed. You seem more... Sure of yourself, more comfortable in your own skin."

"I heard running a business can do that to people" I commented dryly. "So how have you and Rhian been?"

"We're fine, thank you very much for asking. It's you we are worried about." He now leaned forward earnestly. "Ana. I consider you my friend. I have watched you blossom and shrivel up, but I have maintained my distance. But for once, I am crossing the metaphorical line to help a friend out, to make her life... Less of a living hell. I know what you are going through. I am a practicing psychologist. Let me help you out."

I rolled my eyes. But internally, my heart was racing. My brain was spinning double time. Every cell of mine was ready to get up and run. Did I ever mention my paranoia about trust? "What makes you think that, John? Really, these things happen to people all the time, and people get over them. I have gotten over it. I have faced it, dealt with it and moved on. What more is there to help?"

"Denial. Or deflection? I can see that nerve on your hand jumping. You are lying to me. Tell the truth, Ana. Admit that you are suffering. Admit that you need help. It will feel good, I promise." He said, truly believing it.

"Right. Now remind me Flynn, why did you suddenly choose this time to be my 'friend'? As I recall, you weren't much of a friend during the time I needed some." I said, narrowing my eyes. He cringed.

"Ana-"

"That's Ms Steele for you, Dr Flynn." I said sharply.

"Alright." He said, raising his hands in surrender. "Ms Steele. I made a bad, wrong decision. I chose the wrong side, I will freely admit that. But people make mistakes. I made a mistake, and I am sorry. I was working for Christian Grey and I felt at that time that I would betray our confidentiality if I took any action then. I forgot my humanity. But now, I am here, to help you. Please tell me the truth."

The truth? My eyes narrowed. Blood rushed to my face and my lip curled and a sneer formed on my face. I stood up slowly. "The truth? It's not your fault - don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming you. But don't you dare give me that shit about wanting to help me and being my friend when I'm at a position to actually afford your bills now and hire you as my doctor. Don't pretend that you didn't side with Christian because he was paying you." I spat out. I spat out and lashed out.

I was heaving, my chest rising up and down. He looked at me impassively. We stared in silence for a few moments when the full magnanimity of what I just said crashed down on him. I had openly accused him of being mercenary when deep down, and somewhere in the corner of his mind, he knew that I was right. He looked away from me and stared into space.

"You're right." He said quietly. "I know it, and I already told you. Your anger is justified-"

"You do not," I hissed, "Have the right to patronise me." He jumped as I said this. Then he nodded.

"I am not patronising you, Ms Steele. I am offering my help as a way of apology – please accept it and forgive me. Don't give me your answer right now. I have given you this proposal. Please consider it. You can call me. You have my card." He pointed to the table where his card lay. He then stood up and nodded. "I will take my leave now."

I nodded back curtly. He turned around and left. Again, he turned to face me sternly.

"You can avoid me, Ms Steele, but you can't ignore your problems forever. Reality is that you have serious issues which you have to address, inevitably. You have nightmares and flashbacks during the day. You have constant stress that you are carrying. Someday, you have to accept that you are not fine." He said ominously. Then he finally left. At that moment, Falcon entered. He had a slight smile on his face. "Dominic Edley for you, ma'am." I was surprised. Did that man have a death wish to be involved in my life's drama? I nodded at Falcon, signalling to let the man enter.

"This is a surprise, Dominic." I said when he entered. "What brings you here?" He was smiling cockily as usual. He came near me, leaned in and gave me a big smack on the lips.

"I was bored with computers. I thought I would drop by and spend some time with you." He grinned. I raised my brows.

"Really?" I drawled. "And what made you think I wanted to see you?" His grin grew wider.

"Babe, don't tell me you don't want some of this." He waved his hand across his body. I rolled my eyes.

"Didn't you find any one of your sluts today?" I asked, sighing. He shook his head.

"Why should I, when I have you?" He said. I narrowed my eyes in anger, about to spit out something sharkily. He saw this and said quickly, "No, no, no, no. I didn't mean to say that you were a… hooker. I meant to say that you are way hotter and way more-" I let out my breath.

"Got it. Stop." I stopped his babble. "Fine, alright. I will attend to your booty call." I said, smiling. He grinned again. I closed the door and turned around. His shirt was already off. I raised my brows again. "Impatient much?" I asked.

He closed the gap between us and took my face in his hands. He looked into my eyes intensely for a second and then smashed his lips against mine. We began to kiss in earnest breathlessly. "You don't waste time, do you?" I gasped in between. I could feel his lips smiling on mine. His hands slid down to my waist slowly and crept under my blouse. He touched the hem and expertly took it off, letting go of my lips for only a second. I undid his trouser button and yanked his pants down. Seconds later, we both stood in our undergarments, our breaths rising and falling in synchrony. My nerve-endings were about to explode with all the sensitivity. Every touch, every kiss would send a thrill down my spine. We were involved in purely physical lovemaking and I was enjoying every second of it.

The door suddenly opened with one obligatory knock. "Ms Steele. Ms Hale is here to see you. And you would be surprised- holy shit!" He blasphemed, seeing his employer in her undergarments.

"Get out." I hissed. "I'll be there in five." Reality sunk in and I hurriedly scooped up my skirt from the floor and put it back on. "Put on your shirt!" I whispered at Dominic angrily. At that moment! I heard a slight commotion outside. Falcon seemed to be in distress.

"Sir, you can't enter the hall until I say so. Please restrain yourself for five minutes. Sir, sir! No! You can't-" the door flew open, hit the walls and bounced back. I gasped loudly and clutched my top in front of my chest. Christian Grey stood there, in all his livid glory.

I froze, staring at my old lover. My eyes widened and the shock seemed etched upon my face. "Oops." Dominic said calmly. "Excuse us a minute, Mr Grey." Christian's face lost all expression, his anger diminishing and disappearing altogether, almost instantly. He looked at us incredulously. Then, as the sun sets at night, his face fell. He looked so... directionless, like my lost boy again. He didn't seem to be able to move as he absorbed the truth of the scene that had just unfolded. Unable to bear the embarrassment and the humiliation, unable to stand that look on Christian's face, I turned around and put my clothes back on. Breathing in deeply and counting from one to ten in French backwards, I calmed myself down of all the excitement. My heart steadied and the adrenalin seemed to wear off.

"What do you want, Grey?" I asked, steadily. Then, I turned. He looked anguished. He was looking at me intently.

"I just realised," he whispered hoarsely. "That I lost exactly that." His words hit me like a punch in the gut, like a flood breaking through a dam. You're Anastasia Steele, damn it! I told myself. You handled the world. You can handle this.

"Falcon, please direct Mr Grey into the drawing room. I shall join him and Ms Hale in a while." I said regally. Falcon nodded and clasped his hand on Christian's. Christian seemed so baffled that he didn't even protest at this invasion of personal space. I turned to Dominic. He was trying to control his laughter. I glared at him. He snorted and then burst out laughing.

"Shut up, you imbecile!" I hissed. "This isn't funny!" He wasn't even listening to me. He was bending down and laughing his guts out. I stamped my foot juvenilely. "You need to go now. I will see you later, Edley." He nodded, unable to speak. I could see tears of laughter coming out of his eyes. "Argh!" I shouted in frustration. I stomped out not at all like the dignified businesswoman I am.

He evidently put his clothes back on and he followed me. He entered my study with me. He looked at Christian and, grinning, made a mocking gesture with his hand. He turned to me and said, "Goodbye, love. I'll see you soon." He pecked me on the lips, winked at me and left.


	18. The Grass on the Other Side - II

(CPOV)

A few hours earlier…

"Argh!" He shouted angrily. Christian paced in his office, his anger knowing no bounds. He didn't think anyone or anything could rein him in at that moment. He picked up a paperweight on his desk and threw at the carefully painted wall, roaring with rage.

Elena Lincoln. The bane of his his saviour, now his destroyer. She herself had unknowingly evened her favours with her flaws and she had provided him plenty of room for attacking her with all the ammunition he had. She had been clever enough to siphon millions of dollars off his company and he and his accountants had been fools not to realise. Or she had been real clever. Either way, he wouldn't rest in peace until he saw her in an orange jumpsuit without her-trying-too-hard make-up. He would make. Her. Pay.

He grabbed his suit and put it on quickly. He walked out the door and said, "Andrea. Clear my schedule for the day. Tell Taylor to bring the car out front." He had to tell all of this to Ana. She deserved to know. There was a distinct possibility that she was robbing off her too. In addition. She would be more than willing to cooperate to destroy the miserable life of that woman. Thinking this, they rode from his Florida office to Ana's place. Christian was gripped by the fear for a second that she wouldn't let him inside the house, but quickly dismissed the thought. They weren't children. They were mature adults who could have a sane, rational conversation. When he reached her place, he saw a woman wearing a very sun hat and walking to the gates of Ana's mansion. She seemed oddly familiar. As he advanced, she caught her looking furtively around and happened to glance at her face.

Shellie Hale. Cold rage filled his veins as he quickened his pace and lengthened his stride. Shellie spotted him from afar and paled with fright. Christian's face seemed like a vengeful Greek god's. She hurried her movements and started pleading with the two guys desperately. They came and stood in front of her, barring access to her. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He growled.

"We are Ms Steele's private security. We have been temporarily assigned to protect Shellie Hale. Please don't even try to harm her. She is under Anastasia Steele's protection." Christian looked baffled.

"How did she come in contact with her?" He asked the two burly guys incredulously. They didn't answered.

"I... I approached her. Information in return for my personal freedom and safety." Shellie spoke up, emboldened by the presence of her bodyguards.

"Information..." Christian's eyes narrowed. "What information have you brought her, Shellie? Something I should know?" He taunted her. She pursed her lips.

"What information?" He roared, going close enough to intimidate her. She seemed startled, like a stray doe by the purr of any engine. He lowered his amplitude. "Shellie. If you don't tell me what is going on, I swear on my son, I shall rip your life apart and before you know it, you will wish you were never born."

She gulped with fright. "I... I found out that... Ms Lincoln was um... embezzling huge amounts from your company... and from one of your client's too. And her... sex life is not exactly legal. I'll tell you more when we see her, shall I?" She said a little boldly. Rage curled out from within Christian's heart. He shoved the guys aside from the gates and simply barged in. This breach of trust on Ana's part, however justified, made him mad. He entered the front door and, pushing Falcon out of the way, he shoved the closed door open. Only, what was inside shrivelled something up in his heart. Some people called it hope.


	19. Confrontation and Conflict

Christian and Shellie sat in the drawing room in silence. Christian glared at her incessantly and she rolled her eyes once or twice at him, which infuriated him even more. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to say anything. He was afraid that if he spoke, his throat would constrict and his eyes would well up. He didn't want to seem like anything less than the British definition of manhood in front of the love of his life. He kept replaying the scene in his head - Ana with no shirt on. Will Roberts in his undergarments. Ana's embarrassed look. His reaction. He had been celibate since their divorce. Somehow, in the corner of his mind, he had refused to believe that Ana would get together with any man other than him, although he had no right to expect that. Seeing her like that felt as if someone shoved a hand through his body, ripped his heart out and crushed it in front of his eyes.

He couldn't bear to think of someone touching her intimately, someone else kissing her, putting his tongue in her mouth, touching her perfect body, stroking her beautiful hair. Or worse, Ana standing at the altar with someone other than him. The thought sickened him. It made him want to break something like that morning. Perhaps he should stock up those paperweights. They came in hand for the channelling of his anger. As he thought this, the door opened and Ana entered.

(APOV)

Taking a deep breath to face my two greatest foes, I entered the drawing room. Shellie stood up instantly and Christian followed. Shellie's utter devotion to me seemed a little excess, even with the explanation of me frightening her to death. "What do you have for me?" I asked her, signalling her to speak. She shuffled some papers around in her hand and opened her mouth to speak when-

"Ana, please don't brush aside the reason why I'm here and don't stop me from knowing all of affects me, too." Christian said begged. He remained standing and was about a foot away from me.

"Are you seriously telling me what to do?" Ana asked slowly, dangerously. Christian's face became alarmed.

"No, no! Of course not! I'm merely asking you, so I might be of some use for you." He replied cautiously, watching each step of his, enunciating each word. Ana calmed down, after a brief rise of temper.

She suddenly noticed Shellie's presence in the room, and straightened up. Rubbing her face and taking a deep breath, She turned to her. All of a sudden, a ball of rage came rolling out from within. Shellie was the reason Ana's emotions were all over the place these last few months. She walked in her direction, balled her fist and punched her gut enough to hurt, but not to damage. "Oooowwww!" She howled loudly, surprise playing a major role in her agony.

"You have to admit, you had it coming from the time I saw the 'you poor baby' bit in the email. I'm amazed I lasted this long." I told her matter-of-factory. She looked at me incredulously, still doubled over and moaning with pain. "Oh, get up. I didn't hit that hard. Don't be a wuss." She turned to Christian for support, who wisely kept his mouth shut. She looked at Ana accusingly and stood up straight, still massaging her stomach.

 **(APOV)**

"Mom! Tennis lessons were cancelled! Coach was out of town and he didn't tell us that before!" Yelled the innocent, unaffected voice of my thirteen year old. Christian and I wore identical masks of horror. We looked at each other. 'What do we do?' He mouthed anxiously.

"I'm here, honey!" I shouted to him. We heard his footsteps pause and resume towards our direction. I could see Christian internally panicking. Good, I thought vindictively, but instantly regretted the thought. No parent would want to be in his current position.

"You will never guess what Billy Murphy did tod-" Ted froze in the entrance of the room. His face was carefully impassive. No one spoke. He walked a few steps inside. He then said slowly, "You are Shellie Hale, aren't you?" Shellie nodded her face impassive. "Why are they here, mom?" He asked, in a clinically detached tone. "Forget that. Call me when they leave."

Christian desperately looked from me to him, not knowing how to react.. He took a step forward and stretched his hand towards him. Ted stepped back, glaring at him hatefully. "Theo-" he began to say.

"Is he still bothering you, mom?" Ted asked me. He then turned to Christian angrily. "Haven't you bothered her enough? Why are you still pestering her? Do you know that people die from increased blood pressure? Do you know that you are killing her slowly?"

"Theodore!" I admonished him. "He is your father! He may be a bad father, but he is still your father! You don't get to talk to him like that."

"It's alright Ana. He needs to get it of his system." Christian murmured despondently. I looked at the pair helplessly. Ted didn't look the least bit contrite.

"Don't condescend me! 'Get it out of his system'? Is that what you did for twelve months?" He taunted his father with folded arms.

"That is enough!" I roared. "Go to your room. Now. Before I do something I regret." I gave him the 'shark' look. Ted flinched away from me, but gave his father a glare. He looked away from me.

"If you bother her anymore, if you make her cry one more time, of I see her crying for any reason, then by God, I will never forgive you." Saying thus, he turned and left.

Christian started to follow him. "Stop. Let him calm down." I advised. He stopped and turned, anguished. His eyes were shining.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you both. I'm sorry." He repeated over and over again. Seeing him as a bundle of nerves and so clearly showing his love for our son, I said:

"It's okay. I forgive you for all that you did... other than the cheating bit. You... Weren't you. I understand that." I meant every word.

He looked at me, amazed and awed. "Anastasia Steele, you are the most amazing person I know." He said, with a tone of reverence in his voice. I said nothing, just watching him. "You are one of a kind, Ana. You are a wonder that no individual could match up to. Thank you." He expressed his gratitude for my forgiveness quietly.

I looked him in the eye. "Stop talking about unnecessary things, Mr Grey," I said. "And let's get on with what we came here for. "What do you have on her?" I asked Shellie immediately, snapping back into shark mode. Grateful for the beginning of some actual work, Shellie shuffled her papers around again and began reciting out on by one, the many indiscretions of Elena Lincoln. When she went into detail about her... lifestyle, Christian and I glanced at each other warily. I shook my head, disgusted. She was still going on her paedophilic spree. She went on and on about her various illegal ventures for the next half an hour.

We attentively listened and by brain whirred to think of an appropriate plan to take the bitch troll down. Christian pinched the bridge of his nose in quiet contemplation. "Well?" I asked him. "What are we going to do about your Mrs Robinson?"


	20. Chemistry and Charlatans

We formulated a plan. A very good one. It would need some time to completely unfold, but in the end, the systematic destruction of every single thing Elena Lincoln had worked for would be guaranteed. I was bursting with vindictive satisfaction. The bitch ruined my life. Now I would ruin hers. Justifiably, it was my responsibility as a citizen of this free country to report any form of illegal activities that we were aware of. I smiled widely like a Cheshire Cat.

Shellie murmured her goodbye and left very quietly, leaving the two of us. The air immediately turned awkward. We tried to avoid each other's eyes, but it didn't work out. Curling and uncurling my fingers uncomfortably, I tried to find an excuse to walk out.

"I have an appointment soon." I said, clearly hinting at him to leave. He looked up, surprised.

"Oh, alright, then. I'll get out of your hair. But first, do you mind if I... Talk to Ted?" He asked nervously, as if I had any right to say no.

"Of course not." I murmured. "He's your son too. Just... be careful of what you say. He can be very... Erm... Argumentative." He nodded grimly, as if preparing for war, when in fact, he was preparing to surrender. I led him to our son's room. I knocked thrice. His muffled answer came through the door. "Open the door, Ted." I said, gently. There was a pause in whatever he was doing. The door opened.

He looked at us sulkily, a look only a child could pull off. He stepped out and closed the door. He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't want him at home." He said, making a jerky motion towards Christian. The poor man didn't know what to say or what to do. He looked like a cute puppy who was bereft of a treat. I kneeled down in front of him, and took him by the shoulders.

"Do you remember what you said when I first told you about what your father did?" I asked him. He hmmphed. I took that as a yes. "Well, I have forgiven him, Ted. I have risen far above what I am and I have learnt to be the bigger person. So can you forgive him and stop behaving this way?" I asked softly, looking into his blue eyes. He looked back stoically for a few seconds.

"No. I will never get back a family, will I? The three of us will never be together again. We will never be a family again. And HE is responsible for that. Until I come to terms with this fact, and no longer feel sorry about it, I cannot forgive him."

Listening to the words coming out of his mouth, I felt a lump in my throat. "No, baby boy!" I wanted to say, "Everything will be alright again!" But I couldn't say that. I couldn't lie. Nothing would be alright. Even I was convinced of that. His father and I were stepping into deep waters now, with the sabotaging campaign. We were anticipating more media attention, more press conferences, more legal battles and worst of all, more disruption in his life. I knew this would irritate him beyond measure, but I wanted my justice. For once, I wanted to take the law in my own hands, using the law, if that made any sense. Elena Lincoln was not going to get away with her bullshit. I wanted to do something for me, so I could get some closure with my issues. May be then, those fucking nightmares would stop.

Christian just stood there, not saying a word. I saw from his ashen face that he was holding his breath. His eyes were wide, as if he were having an epiphany. He was more vulnerable than ever. Maybe the realisation had dawned on him that he, in fact, had no family of the heart at the moment, and that he had lost the one person who had loved him no matter what – at least for now. I shook his hand from where I was crouching. To my astonishment, I felt a current pass through me.

I couldn't believe it.

He felt it too, I realised, from the shocked look he was giving me now. I cleared my throat and said, "Breathe, Christian." He exhaled. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them after a few seconds.

"I'll see you soon, Ms Steele." He said formally. I was about to nod, when I remembered that I was angry with him for one more thing. I stood up and looked up at him.

"Wait a second. I wanted to ask you about something that happened today." I said, showing no emotion. "I'll lead you to the front door." He looked at me warily and we began walking. He looked at me questioningly once we were out of Ted's earshot. "A man came to me offering 'help' today," I said, making the finger quotes on 'help'. He flinched. A-ha! "Dr John Flynn. He said that you sent him over. Can you tell me why you felt the need to do that?" He placed the impenetrable CEO look on his face.

"I heard from… sources that you were experiencing some… disturbing things. I felt that it was my duty to help you out with this since…"

"You were the one who caused it?" He flinched again. "Okay, leave that. Which 'source' are we talking about here?" There was a big pause as we stood in front of my main door. He quietly weighed the consequences of his words. He finally looked up.

"Elliot." He said. My face continued to remain impassive. I felt as if I were in a tense room, trying to make the opponent sign a deal.

"I see." I said blandly. "Please take care not to meddle with any aspect of my life again. I understand that you feel responsible, but in case you haven't noticed, I have the resources to get help if I need it. Besides, I don't need help of any sort. What you saw before was a rare event, caused by your arrival." I said, pointedly. His eyes scanned my face. He nodded curtly.

"I shall see you when the deed is done." He said, referring to the Operation Robinson. I nodded back equally curtly. He climbed down the stairs and left in his care. I turned around and went inside. Ted stood in front of him.

"Did you see what he did?!" He asked with disbelief.

"What?" I asked, picking up my phone and scrolling through my contacts list.

"He just… he just left! Without saying goodbye to me! Without even responding to what I said! He just left! Like he doesn't even care!"

"Well," I said, "You made it pretty clear that you didn't want to have anything to do with him. So there was nothing wrong in what he did. He saw that there was nothing more he had to do in this house." Ted looked at me with disbelief.

"Do you know what you're saying?" He said, baffled.

"I know exactly what I am saying." I said, finding the name I wanted. I then looked at him with my shark face. "Listen, Theodore. I know how you feel isn't wrong. But that doesn't permit you to speak to Christian that way. He is your father. I have not raised you in such a way that you behave like a pampered, spoilt child, disrespecting his elders. I am ashamed of the way you behaved today. Now I have a lot of work to do. Go to your room." I said. His face drooped. He just made a jerky motion and left. I felt a squeeze in my chest, my heart going out for him. But he had to be taught that lesson.

I touched the 'call' button and held the phone to my ear. Elliot picked it up on the other end. "Ana!" He exclaimed. "What-"

"Not a word, I had said. Just one simple command, Elliot." I hissed. "Do you WANT your child to be fatherless?"

"Oops." He said, seriously. "What happened?"

"John Flynn knocked on my door today. And somehow, he thought it was his business to meddle in my life. I hate people meddling in my life, as you know. Fuck you, Elliot." I said rather calmly, still in shark mode.

"Look, Ana. I accept that it was unwarranted for him to come and offer unwanted help, but you have to admit, you need it."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." I said through clenched teeth. "I asked you to do one thing, Elliot. Do you Grey brothers have fetish for ruining my peace of mind?"

"That isn't fair, Ana." He said, sombrely.

"What is not fair is that my free will has constantly been violated, again and again. First he abuses me, now you ignore my request. Do you see the pattern here? Please," I said, not quite pleading. "Stay out of it." There was a few seconds of stunned silence.

"Abuse?" He said hoarsely. "You… you mean…. That's why…?"

"Forget about it. Listen, Elliot. I have forgiven you, and don't make me regret it by pretending to know what's good for me." I said in a low voice. I hung up, not wanting to hear the reply. It seemed like the only thing I did to people these days was hurt them.


	21. Execution Part-1

Grace Trevelyan was operating on a child of five with a benign tumour on his oesophagus. Her face was focused and tense, as she performed the surgery with the nimbleness and the grace of a ballerina. Once the surgery was complete, she dropped her instruments on the side and asked the others to close up. She removed her pink gown and walked out of the room when her phone rang. She frowned at the number. She had no earthly idea who it was. She answered it, saying, "Dr Tre-"

"Grace." Came a steely voice.

"Ana!" She exclaimed. "This is a surprise!"

"Yeah." She said without inflection. "Listen, Grace, I need some help with something really serious. Can I meet you for lunch at the bistro near your hospital?"

"Of course! I will be there at two." Grace confirmed immediately.

"Alright." Ana replied and ended the call. Grace stared at her phone, wondering what was so serious that Ana had to talk to her about.

The lamp light shone brightly across all the papers strewn across her desk. Shellie could be surprisingly industrious when she wanted something. Her brows were knitted together on her forehead; a bead of sweat trickled down her cheek. Matt Samson, her lawyer, had guided her through all those complicated legal papers. She had obediently and fervently taken notes.

Now she looked at all of them, and accordingly tried to write letters, her speeches and fill out legal papers. She needed all the preparation she could get. This was going to be one intense battle.

Christian paced around in his study, cursing his luck, wondering why the fuck Elena Lincoln had swindled money from Dominic Edley of all people. He still couldn't bear the image of him and Ana naked at her house. He growled once, stupidly punching the wall behind him, and then howling in pain. Still muttering a string of curses, he called Taylor. "Put Dominic Edley on the phone." He said sharply. Taylor handed him the phone a minute later.

"This is Grey." He snapped into the phone.

"I realised." Edley replied dryly.

"Did you also realise that you are being swindled?" Christian asked, irritated with his mocking tone.

"Grey, I know you hate that I am getting laid with your ex, but really, this is too much."

"Shut the fuck up and listen. Elena Lincoln has embezzled 3 million dollars from your company and 4.5 from mine; although the Lord knows why she has a stake in yours." He muttered the last sentence. There was utter silence on the other end. "Edley." Christian said.

"Elena Lincoln, you say?" He whispered. Christian was taken aback. This wasn't the reaction he had expected from him. Anger? Fury? Sure. But anguished shock?

"Err... yes. So I have a proposition for-" Dominic had already hung up. That guy had so much gratitude in him, it was unbelievable.

The Washington police sat in their station playing cards. It was a good day; they had just closed a case. This was their way of celebration. As the game escalated and became interesting, a call interrupted them. The men groaned. "Can we let that one go? No one will know." A younger man said hopefully. The older ones glared at him.

"Crazy fellow." One of them muttered. He reached out and answered the phone. "Washington police."

"Officer." A breathy, muffled voice said. "I have some news for you." He officer frowned.

"Ma'am, who am I speaking to?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter! I want to make you famous, officer. Do you want a high profile case? I will give one to you. Write this down. Are you ready? Okay. Go to Deadman's lane this evening and ask around for a Greg Thomas. Then ask him whether he has connections with a certain Elena Lincoln. Then, you will find yourself right in the middle of a big drug trafficking case, involving very rich and famous people, officer. Now wouldn't you like that?" The woman giggled on the other end and hung up.

The officer looked around in a daze, after placing the receiver back. "Boys," he said slowly. "We've got more work to do."

A man walked on the pavement near a rich locality. He looked around furtively... he knew no one knew his secret, except for those who were involved. Yet, he felt like everyone on the road knew his ugly, dirty secret; like everyone was staring at him disgustedly. As a he looked back over his shoulders, he bumped into something. It was a man, some 6"7, wearing Ray Ban sunglasses and a black suit. He looked like a bodyguard.

"Mr Lewis." He murmured. "I have a proposition for you, courtesy, Anastasia Steele." Lewis looked at the man with wide eyes.

"Wh- what?" He stuttered.

"We know who you are, Mr Lewis, we know where you are headed. But don't worry; we aren't going to reveal anything. We just need your help." Lewis looked as pale as a ghost.

"How... how do you- did she-?" He stammered fearfully.

"If you mean Elena Lincoln, no she didn't say anything. But Ms Steele is a powerful person, Mr Lewis. She has a lot to offer. Including anonymity, friendship and security." The man said pointedly. He extended his hand and gave him his card. It had Ms Steele's name with a number written on the back. "Contact me when you are ready." He said. "And please make sure this doesn't reach Lincoln's ears. You would be very sorry indeed if that happens."

He turned on his heel and walked away.

Lewis stared at the card with apprehension. Someone knew his secret. And they could expose him. His career would be destroyed. He would lose his job. His wife and kids would leave him. What kind of a trap had he got himself into? He took a deep breath. Tomorrow. He would call them tomorrow.


	22. Execution Part-2

I removed my glasses as the footman took off my coat. I didn't have to say my name; they directed me to my booth. Two minutes later, Grace arrived. "This place is nice, isn't it?" She said, as a conversation starter, sitting opposite to me.

"Of course it is." I replied. "I own it." Grace's eyes widened.

"Oh." She said, not knowing what else to say.

"Alright. Listen carefully, Grace. The woman who your son had an affair with was sent by your ex-best friend, Mrs Robinson to ruin my life. Unfortunately, her plan failed. So she asked Shellie to make a public spectacle. But." I paused, letting Grace absorb the revelation. "We have brought her over to our side."

"We?" Grace asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Grey and I." I said, annoyed at being interrupted. "Yes, we are working on this together. Don't look so surprised. May I continue?" I asked, acerbically.

"Please do." Grace murmured.

"Now, I know you have got quite a lot of influence and contacts in high society. I have not kept any relationships except for business ones in the last few years. So I want you to host a large scale party, in honour of some rising of the white flag or something... making peace with the estranged and all that, in which both Elena Lincoln and I will attend. I will give a small performance in the party that will force that bitch to never wander among our society again."

Grace stared at me, her eyes filled with surprise and sadness. I was irritated by this display of emotion. We were here to talk strategy, not cry about things. I lifted a brow inquiringly.

"Well? Will you do it?" I asked impatiently, looking at my watch.

"Was there any doubt?" Grace asked, smiling wryly.

"Considerable ones." I muttered. I extended my hand and Grace shook it. "I will remain in touch." I said and walked out, the footman putting my coat back on. As soon as I exited, Falcon followed me.

"Mr Lewis will call back tomorrow, ma'am." He informed me. I nodded.

"Put Hale on the phone." I ordered. He dialled her number and handed over the phone. "Shellie. Is everything ready?"

"I need an extra day, Ms Steele. I have one more meeting with the lawyer, Mr Samson."

"What's the update on the other matter?" I asked brusquely.

"I made the call, Ms Steele and I saw them move from the station too." She reported.

"Okay, keep me updated." I said and hung up. Then immediately, the phone began to blare. I looked at the screen. It was Dominic. I answered it, steeling myself for an intense discussion. "I take it-"

"When the fuck were you planning to tell me this?" He said with quiet fury.

"Today, through Christian Grey." I replied icily, instantly defensively in the face of a male-dominant tone.

"When did you find out?" He continued, not noticing my tone.

"Yesterday." I replied, mellowing a little. He sounded genuinely paranoid. Scared. "You aren't really that worried are you? Three million can be recovered with the click of a finger. Besides, when you sue her-"

"When I sue her?" He asked, sounding surprised. I was bowled over. What was wrong with this man? Didn't he want to trample that catty old bitch?

"Dominic..." I said slowly. "You mean, Grey didn't tell you?"

"No." He said distractedly. "I hung up before he had the chance."

"That bitch is the reason Ted doesn't have a happy family." I snapped angrily. "She is a manipulative, sneaking, lying-"

"Stop." It wasn't an order. It was a plea. I was now suspicious.

"Edley." I said, my voice hardening. "Elena sent Shellie Hale to Grey to split us up. She embezzled money from him too. We loved each other. She made my married life miserable with him. We need your support in bringing her down. We are going to do it anyway, but it would be very advantageous if you helped us too."

I heard Dominic breathing deeply on the other end. "Alright." He said curtly. "I will do it. Give me the details." I smiled grimly. The plan was back on track. .

"Washington Police, open up!" The officer yelled in front of the house. It looked more like a rickety shack. The front door seemed to reverberate to his voice. They didn't want to bang on the door, lest it break. They shouted once more when they heard shuffling inside. They lock slowly opened and then the door. A bleary eyed man in his forties in a striped blue and white dressing down stood in front of them, bewildered.

"Are you Mr Greg Thomas?" The officer demanded. Greg nodded slowly.

"Was dis 'bout?" He slurred, clearly drunk. The cops rolled their eyes.

"Do you know an Elena Lincoln?" One of them asked. Greg frowned

"Who?" He asked. The officer sighed and took out his phone and searched for her picture.

"Mr Thomas, do you know this woman?" He asked, shoving the phone in his face. Thomas' face brightened.

"Ah, yes. Elena is a right beauty she is. Buys all o' ma stash too." He said appreciatively. The cop raised his brows. Clearly, his inhibitions were low.

"So you admit to dealing with drugs? And her along with you?" He inquired. Greg smiled. He wasn't drunk. He was high.

"Tha's righ'. Biggest in-n-innermediary on da west coast. N tha beauty right there..." he pointed at Elena's picture. He jabbed his finger on his chest. "Ma partna." He smiled dopily. The cops smiled at him. "Hey..." he frowned. "Ya guys aren' cops, yeah?"

"Arrest this man." Said the officer.

The next morning's papers were splashed with news of socialite cougar ex-Mrs Lincoln of Lincoln timbers involved directly in a drug peddling scandal. The high society of Washington was shocked. Ana saw it as the gunshot signalling the beginning of a war. Christian looked at it with vindictive satisfaction. Edley saw it worriedly, unable to focus on work all day. Grace smiled, happy that the child molester was getting what she deserved. And Elena. Elena sat in the common, stinking jail, reading the papers, fuming and muttering relentlessly under her breath. 'Anonymous tip', it said. She knew exactly who it was. Anastasia was going to pay. Again.

Albert Lewis's hands trembled. His fingers shook as he pushed the buttons on the phone. He had read the papers in the morning and was startled to see the woman behind bars. Deciding that he was now facing a power much greater than the cruel Elena Lincoln, he resolved to contact Anastasia Steele. He dialled the number, locked the door of his room, closed the blinds and stood in the middle of darkness.

"Mr Lewis," the male voice from the previous day answered the phone. "We were wondering when you would call.

"Uh huh." He said fearfully. "What do you want from me?"

"Let me make it clear to you, Mr Lewis. We are not blackmailing you. We are merely asking you for a favour in return for which you will get a lot of benefits. If you don't do us the favour, there is no consequence, and we will never contact you again. However. That woman is going to be destroyed in the next couple of days, and for all the unsavoury things she has done in life, she will get what she deserves. We merely need to you to add to our ammo inventory." The man said.

"Uh huh." Lewis replied again. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"We want you to mobilise all the boys you know who were in your position and jointly, file a complaint against her. The proceedings will be private. Your names won't be disclosed and your relationship with her after your adulthood will completely be erased. It is all in our hands right this moment." He explained. Lewis remained silent for a long time.

"I... I just want to add something." He said hesitantly.

"Go on." He said, sounding curious.

"I want to file a complaint of blackmail too." He said, his voice a little bit stronger. "That is... if you promise to have my back."

"Have no doubts. We'll give you all the resources you need. Come to-" The man gave him an address to arrive at that day. Lewis immediately picked his coat up and left. It was a cold, cold day.


	23. Execution Part-3

**_Three Weeks Later_**

"She got BAIL?!" I shouted into the phone. Shellie had just called up to deliver the terrible news of our setback.

"Yes, but don't worry, ma'am. She is still to go to the hearing and the case still stands against her. Investigation is still going on." She replied earnestly. I sighed.

"That's a bummer." I mumbled. "Alright. Are you ready for tomorrow? Is everything thorough? Are you sure there are no loopholes and no mistakes?" I asked her.

"None, ma'am. We cross checked it 11 times." She replied confidently. I breathed deeply. "Don't worry, ma'am, it will go off without a hitch." She assured me.

The strangest thing had happened in the past few weeks. Shellie Hale had turned out to be a nice enough girl who was good-natured and sweet. She was forced to have a whirlwind affair with Grey, because, well, she was forced AND because she was an excellent actor. I had seen the real side of her, and - as bizarre as this would sound - we were both quite comfortable around each other.

I sometimes worried that she was manipulating me like she did to Grey, but I had a 24 hour surveillance of her every activity, unbeknown to her. So that clarified my doubt.

"Something's going to go wrong, and I know it." I told her. "It's just a hunch, but my hunched are usually to be right."

"Well..." she said uncertainly. "Everyone is meticulously planning, so there's a huge chance of this being a huge success." She ended brightly.

"Whatever you say, Shellie." I sighed, smiling a little at her upbeat tone. But I never showed to anyone else that the shark had, for once, thawed to an outsider. "Okay, we will talk tomorrow. Good luck." I added for a good measure, and hung up.

The doorbell rang. Brandon let someone in. Two firm sets of footsteps. Who else, I thought. Dominic and Christian walked in, Christian's body rigid and stiff with the former. Dominic came closer and gave me a kiss. "Your payment for making me do all this work." He murmured against my ear. I put a hand on his chest and stepped back.

"I don't understand why you aren't doing this willingly." I said, shaking my head, despairingly.

"You won't understand anything I do." He said, giving a lopsided smile. "I'm an enigma." He sounded as if he were in a better mood, but a keen understanding of the human behaviour made me realise otherwise.

"Sure, sure." I scoffed, smiling a little. I saw Christian's face turning sour. I cleared my throat. All that stress was making me soft towards people. I didn't know whether that was a good thing. "So are you both ready to file?"

Christian nodded. "Everything is set. Three in the afternoon, the three of us will go and do our bit while you're at the party. Lewis and the others will go to the other end of town." He said in a taut voice. Christian was upset about something other than Dominic and me. I frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, trying to sound distant and shrewd and unfortunately, succeeding. "What happened? Did Ted say anything else?"

"What are you talking about?" He snapped irritably. "Nothing is wrong. Everything's just perfect." He said sarcastically. I ignored his tone and searched his face for hints.

"Is it because of Charlie Tango running his course? Ted told me about that." I said, knowing how much he loved that chopper - sorry, helicopter.

"Get a grip, Anastasia." He muttered. "I'm not a child to bemoan the loss of a plaything."

"Hold up," Dominic cut in, looking left out. "I don't understand what's going on here." I stared pointedly at Christian.

"Neither do I." I said. I turned to Dominic. "He is upset about something really serious, so he's cranky."

"I thought he was always cranky. Or is that just me?" Dominic raised a brow. I laughed.

"No, that's just you. Usually he is just brooding. He is rarely cran-"

"If you're done with dissecting my personality," Christian exploded, "can we get on with the planning?" I raised my arms in mock surrender.

"You don't want to tell me? Fine. We aren't a married couple anymore anyhow." I told him. He flinched.

"And I thank god for that every day." Dominic smirked. I hid a smile. This man and his never shutting mouth were so sexy.

"Okay, Christian, Dominic. At 3, I will begin. I will go on until 3.30, and the paps should've arrived by then. If you both haven't already become unpopular, somebody call them." I looked at their arrogant 'waddaya think' faces and sighed. "Okay, so the news must be quickly televised because I will switch the TV on at 3.35 sharp. And then we will see." I finished with relish. They nodded.

"Okay, see you later, love." Dominic said, kissing me again and walking out the door. Christian turned at the same time. I wanted to go behind him and ask him again, but I had a feeling that that wasn't my role anymore, regardless of us being divorced.

That afternoon, I waited until Ted got home. He gave me his regular smile and went up to his room. I turned to Blake. "I need at least eight eyes on him from now until I tell you to relax. I need eight eyes constantly, meaning at least four people looking out for him. All the time. Everywhere. Anywhere. He is not to talk to any stranger or do anything out of ordinary. Just follow the routine and keep him utterly safe." I ordered. Blake nodded.

"Of course, ma'am." He said. Next I called for Falcon. He stood in front of me.

"I have upped the mansion's security and alerted all the guards. The password automated gates are in place as well as every other security system. All password protected areas have been activated. The electricity is running through the wire barbs on the compound walls." He reported.

"Phew." I said gratefully. "Thank god for you, man. I wouldn't know what I would do without you." He nodded embarrassedly.

"Brandon, Stuart and I will be accompanying you tomorrow along with a security team." I frowned.

"Why do I need a team? We are going to a party, for Christ's sake."

"You need a team for security, ma'am. You never know what's going to happen." I shrugged.

"I made you head of security. You take care how you see fit. Just see to it that Ted has a team looking after him." I emphasised. He nodded and left. I took a deep breath, preparing myself mentally for the best performance of my life.


	24. The Day Part - 1

I stared out of the window apprehensively, gazing at the sky clichédly. I watched the movements of the clouds keenly. A cloud morphed into a wizard's hat. Then it merged with another cloud to form a man's head with a screaming mouth. I was reminded of Scream, by Edward Munch. I was pretty sure I felt as surreal, disturbed and distorted as the man in the painting. I wanted to cup my ears with my arms and shout with all the might of my lungs, wanting a cathartic release that didn't involve sex.

I was a chaotic mess. My head buzzed with a million thoughts. I was supposed to have a single-minded determination to bring Elena Lincoln down and ruin her life like she did mine, but... I couldn't let go of the feeling that I was doing something wrong, like I was going against my fundamental morals, like I was stooping to her level with all the scheming and the strategic decimation, like I had become an ultra-focussed bitch whose life revolved around something petty and insignificant. I guessed I was growing up.

Bad timing, dear mind.

I didn't want to go through with the day, but I did. If there was any truth in Freud's words, my id was working overdrive, fighting my superego. I was just so confused and worked up like a teenager, who wasn't sure of life at all. I stepped away from the window. It wasn't doing me any good.

I took a deep breath. Perspective, Ana Steele. I weighed my options. I weighed the pros and cons. I weighed the possibilities. I weighed the price of the consequences. I weighed the cost-profit ratio. The scales tipped in the favour of going through with the plan. With one sweep of my mind, I cleared the clutter in my head clean. Focus. Focus, Ana. You can't back out now. Not when you have gone this far.

I walked over to my desk and sat down. I rubbed my face, feeling unduly fatigued. I drank a glass of water and stood up, finally getting it together. My hunch still remained, that something would go wrong. But I continued anyway. It was too late to turn back now.

It was already one in the afternoon. I began dressing up for Grace's party. I want for the violent red colour - I was all for revenge and bloodshed that day. It was two in the afternoon when I was completely ready. It was a Saturday, so Ted was home. I went into his room and pecked him on the cheek, hugging him. I didn't understand why I felt so emotional, all of a sudden. "Bye, baby boy. See you in the evening." I said. He groaned and tried to uncomfortably pull away. I smiled and went out of his room. Blake stood inside the room. I gave him a pointed look, and he nodded. I walked out of the room and saw two of the security men standing outside. "Never leave his side." I commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am." They murmured. I walked out of the house and Falcon pulled into the driveway from the garage. I sat inside the car and he closed the door. I took a deep breath.

"Let's go." I said.

The draperies were the grandest ones I had ever seen in my life. The mansion had been turned into a ballroom of the Victorian era. Liveried men stood around serving all the high profile guests who were present. The security was tight, courtesy Christian Grey. The light was soft yellow, giving off a pleasant feeling of calm. Only I could sense danger and eerie discomfort in this calm.

I spotted Grace at the other end of the room. She looked at me and nodded. I walked up to her, smiling and nodding at all the acquaintances present. I smiled at Grace and we did a routine air kiss. "Is she here?" I asked, still smiling for the show.

"Oh, yes. She wouldn't miss any drama for the world." Grace replied and laughed, to prevent any suspicions.

"Can she socialise or..." I asked.

"Society is shunning her, whispering about her. Today will seal it." Grace replied. I nodded. I clasped her hands for the benefit of the onlookers.

"It was so nice meeting you again, Grace!" I gushed and walked away. Kate and Mia were also present. I joined their conversation quickly, not wanting to isolate myself.

"What's going on?" Kate asked curiously. "Why has Grace hosted a party in the off-season? And how are you involved in this?"

"That's for me to know and for you to see." I said secretively. Kate frowned.

"Ooooh! I love surprises!" Mia exclaimed. I smiled wryly.

"Sweetheart, I don't think this is the kind of surprise you look forward to. This thing today is going to get nasty. Keep your distance from me... you don't want to get hurt in the process."

"Ana," Kate said slowly. "What are you up to?" I just looked at her intently for a moment. Then I simply smiled. "Ana," she said, sounding nervous. "Don't do anything stupid. I know that look of yours."

I merely maintained my smile. I gave the room a cursory glance when I spotted recently jailed Elena Lincoln advancing in my direction. I smiled at her broadly. "Ms Lincoln!" I exclaimed. "It has been ages!"

Elena gave a brittle smile. "Ms Steele. I'm honoured to make your acquaintance again." I dipped my head graciously. I heard the whispers begin all around us. The successful entrepreneur talking to the tacky drug dealer just wasn't It. "I see you were also invited to this white flag party. I was very surprised when my invitation hadn't been rescinded after my arrest." She emphasised the last word, looking at me meaningfully. I got her message, clear as crystal. She knew I was behind that, and she was on her guard that day.

"Oh, Grace isn't like that at all!" I gushed falsely, batting my lashes for a good measure. "Of course she wouldn't insult a dear friend like that!" Elena narrowed her eyes imperceptibly.

"Of course." She murmured. "It was nice to have such a... meaningful conversation, Anastasia. I hope it was as enlightening for you as it was for me." She cocked her head to the side, watching my expression like a hawk. My impenetrable mask never slipped.

"Oh, yes, Mrs Robinson. It certainly was." I smiled widely. I saw her stiffen. We drew in for a hug.

"Watch out." Elena whispered in my ear.

"I have always been." I whispered back lightly. She drew back and walked away from me. I watched her go, venomous on the inside, indiscernible on the outside.

I realised that I had done the right thing in the last few years by not interacting with the society. I had lost out on nothing. People still simpered and sucked up around me and I was still unbelievably popular and famous, but it was annoying to hear the empty-headed, superficial talks that involved gowns and couture and Paris. I thanked god when I found Ethan and Elliot trying to merge into the walls. I waved to them and went over to their side.

They had a pained expression on their faces. I grinned at them. "Sorry about the party. It will get interesting soon, I promise." They looked at me morosely.

"Why couldn't it just have been an all-female party? You could've bitched and gossipped in peace, leaving us alone." Elliot said mournfully.

"Do you know just how many women have come and introduced themselves provocatively, thinking I am single?" Ethan complained. "Mia is going nuts. She wants to announce it today." I raised my brows.

"You can't, if you want the entire spotlight on you today." I told him. "I cannot believe that you two are fully grown men. You complain like my son." They glared at me. "Bah, you look five years old." I muttered. "Anyway, I just came to warn you. When I go on the podium, do not be near it. Clear the surrounding area had don't let anybody near. Do you understand me?" They looked alert.

"What's wrong?" Ethan asked.

"Absolutely nothing." I said, giving them a blinding grin. He frowned. I walked away before he could begin the Kavanaugh inquisition.


	25. The Day Part - 2

I was becoming restless. I didn't think I could stand anymore of this anticipation. I looked at my watch impatiently. 3.03. About time. I looked at Grace who was looking at me inquiringly. I nodded once, indicating that she should start. Grace ascended the stage and lightly hit the champagne flute with a spoon. Hearing the noise, everyone fell silent. Grace smiled beatifically at everyone.

"Welcome!" She said exuberantly. "Welcome to all of you! Today, we have gathered here to raise the white flag, to tape up the breaches, to fix the cracks, to build the bridges. The very fact that you all accepted the invite and are here today is testimony to how much we all want peace and happiness in our lives. Thank you all for coming. I hope that all of our strained relationships can be non-therapeutically talked out, so Washington's community is harmonious once again." There was a round of applause for her. Then she did some acting as Falcon stepped up the Dias and whispered in her ear. She looked bemused. Then she frowned. She turned to the audience once more.

"It looks like we have our first entertainment segment for the day. One of our guests today, Ms Anastasia Steele has something to say to you all." She nodded at me and then got off the stage. I smiled at her demurely and too her place on the podium.

"Good evening to Washington's best." I said smiling. I saw everyone smile back. "I thank Grace Trevelyan for making this event possible to remove the animosities that many of us have been harbouring for a very long time, which has been eating into our insides. This is a wonderful opportunity for all of us to start with a clean slate. Thank you, Grace." There was another round of applause.

"Now, I am standing here in front of you to provide some much needed entertainment." There was some polite laughter. "I want to tell you all a fascinating, dark tale of a woman who had unfathomable capacities in the most... unique respects." My gaze landed on Elena Lincoln. She looked furious. Encouraged, I continued. "Once upon a time, there lived a woman... Let's just call her 'the woman' for now. The woman was a very ambitious individual who always desired to get what she wanted regardless of the consequences of her actions. She wanted a kind of lifestyle..." I glanced at Elena. "That was unmatched by any other. So she trapped a very rich man into marriage. She came from high society herself but more money is never a bad thing, is it?" A few more laughs.

"Right. So this woman married a rich businessman who owned a timber company which was flourishing. She became this man's trophy wife." Several eyes turned suspiciously to Elena now. The clue was too obvious. "The woman soon got bored. She was tired of her husband's busy schedule and tired of being alone all the time. So she hired a very good looking gardener, a fifteen year old boy at the cusps of his adolescence who was the son of a good friend of the woman. Suffice to say, she trapped the boy in a snake-like manner to join her lifestyle - the BDSM lifestyle. She saw nothing wrong in what she was doing.

"Slowly, the boy grew up without realising that he was becoming more fucked up than he already was, without realising that he was being exploited, used as a toy for her boredom. But the woman did develop an attachment towards this boy. However." I paused for a dramatic effect. "One day, our timber millionaire returned home to find his wife in a compromising position with a boy half his age. He immediately filed for divorce and the couple parted on bitter terms.

"Now this boy started his own business because of the start-up fund the woman gave him. She held a stake in his company and somehow managed to have stakes in other men's companies too. That remains a mystery. Then this boy grew up, married and had a child. The woman's old feelings of loneliness and rejection returned. With the ample of time and money she had left, she drove the couple apart cruelly and caused them to divorce, ruining the child's life forever.

"This wife, angry with her husband, split up from him, took their child and became extremely successful in life. Then she found out why her marriage had failed. She was hungry for revenge. So she hatched an elaborate plan to give the woman what she deserved in life. This plan, which I just mentioned is currently in progress. Let me show you right now how this wife got her revenge." The entire room was silent as a morgue. Everyone knew who I was talking about. No one dared to move, let alone speak a word, because they could sense the underlying wrath in my voice. I looked at my watch. 3.25pm. I signalled to Falcon to switch on the television. He switched it on and the huge screen behind me lit up. The news channel came on. It was bursting with scandal.

"...that Mr Dominic Edley and Mr Christian Grey, two of the biggest entrepreneurs of their time have filed a case of embezzlement against socialite Elena Lincoln, the accused in the drug peddling case recently."

"… in the news again, several unnamed have filed a blackmail and sexual abuse suit against Ms Lincoln this afternoon."

"…Elena Lincoln is again in the hot seat as Shellie Hale, the woman who recently went to the media saying theatrical she was the reason the Greys broke up, has also filed a case of blackmail against her. Ms Lincoln better have a good lawyer and a lot of money, otherwise she will never get out of this pit she has dug for herself." The newsreader said.

Pictures of Edley and Grey, of Shellie's interviews, of Grey and I, of Edley and I were splashed all over the news. Falcon changed channels to let the enraptured audience get a full picture of the situation. I turned to see Elena backtracking. "Ms Lincoln!" I called out. "I think, for your own safety, you'd better not exit this hall. Better wait for the police to come here and arrest you instead."

All of a sudden, there was a huge uproar as this dignified bunch began yelling and shouting in an outraged manner at this one woman. She looked enraged and frustrated, trapped in this huge hall. At that moment, the commotion outside increased as Edley and Grey entered the hall. The people cleared out the main hall and stood on the side-lines leaving the stage to the two women, Mrs Robinson and me.

Elena turned to me. Her eyes looked demented. "You fucking whore." She spat out.

The room smelled of despair. Ted was sullen. He hadn't seen his mother in a long time. He wanted to do something other than stay at home. He was so restless, he couldn't stand being alone at home. "Blake?" He said in his tiny, childish voice.

"Yes?" Blake said. Blake had been hovering around in the room for the past two hours. He hadn't left his side and this was irritating Ted. He wanted to get out of the house and play, or something.

"Can I go swim in the pool?" He asked mournfully, looking at Blake longingly. Blake's lips twitched.

"I'm sorry, no. Your mother's orders." He said.

"Can we play tennis?"

"Sorry, no."

"Basketball?"

"Not the outdoor one."

"Can I go to Ben's place?"

"No."

"Can I do anything outside the house?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because your mother said so."

"So what?"

"So she cares about your safety."

"But it will be within the grounds! Not outside!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No." Teddy sighed miserably.

"Okay, we will play basketball inside the house." He said resignedly.

"Sure." Blake said cheerfully. He went downstairs asking the two outside to keep a watch. The basketball thing took some time to set up. Ted was still in his room, clearing up the mess. He went to place his stuff on the table next to the window when suddenly, he saw something fly his way from outside. It was shining. Fire.


	26. The Day Part - 3

Dominic made a sudden agitated movement towards her, as did Christian. "You never did have much of self-control, Elena, in any matter." I said coolly.

"Don't tell me what to have and what not to, you common slut!" She shouted.

"Shut the fuck up." Christian's voice thundered. "Fucking child molester. You had no integrity even in that. I met Lewis and his accomplices. I know. How could you-" His voice broke at the last word. He said it so low, that even I strained to hear it. She looked at him, sneering.

"You were deluded to think that you were my special pretty boy. You never were the only one. You were such a-"

"I will punch you if another word leaves your mouth." Dominic said hoarsely. For the first time, Elena properly looked at him. She gave him a half smile, her eyes still cold. Dominic looked disgusted. "Is that why you gave me away then? To fuck boys my age? You're fucking twisted, you bloody old witch!" He threw the words on her. My heart skipped a beat. What the hell had he just said?

"What?!" Christian and I said in unison. Dominic looked at me with a world of hurt in his eyes. He seemed speechless, unable to figure out what to say to me. Then I really looked at him. His face was pale – paler than usual. His eyes were red and strained. His jaw was taut and his movements were rigid.

"This is why. This is why I hesitated." He said to me, his voice pleading with me to understand. I was too baffled to respond, my eyes wide and my jaw dropped. He took a few steps towards me and extended his hand to touch my shoulder, but thought better of it. He turned around and left the hall.

I stepped down from the dais. I circled my fingers around her scrawny throat and pushed her to the wall, so her head banged against it. "What was he talking about? What did you do to him too?" I hissed. I felt a hand on my shoulders. I turned furiously.

"Ana. Calm down. Let her go." Christian murmured, as if he were dealing with dynamite.

"Calm down?" I asked slowly, dangerously. "Are you fucking crazy? Do you understand the full enormity of this old bitch's actions?"

"I do. Believe me, I do." He said, with a little humourless laugh. "But the point of all this was to get vendetta the legal way, not to take the law in our hands."

I ignored him and turned towards her. "Tell me, you catty whore, what was Dominic Edley talking about?"

She coughed once and laughed. She threw her head back and laughed. "You can't keep your hands off any man I know, can you?" She said tauntingly. I began blocking her windpipe slowly, pressing the top of her throat. "Dominic Edley," She gasped quickly, "is the legitimate son of my ex-husband and me." I let her go and stumbled back, shocked. The staggering revelation sent my mind into a tsunami of confusion, angst, worry, disbelief...

Elena had an evil glint on her eye as she walked towards me. "You think you are the only one with the grand plans, Anastasia? You think only you have the resources to destroy someone's life? I have a few tricks up my sleeve too. Or up me boots, shall I say? I am going to make your life a living hell, regardless of where I live." She declared in a shrill, high pitched voice.

The piece of flame hit the glass window and fell back on the ground. Ted leaped back and then curiously bent forward. The grass caught fire. Blake had gone downstairs but the other two men were in the room now. One of them came towards the window and opened it. "Let's get some air, shall we?" He said, smiling at Ted.

"Did you see that?" Ted asked in bewilderment. "The fire?"

"Oh, that? That's nothing." The security guy said dismissively. "I wouldn't worry about it. Then, another piece of flame was thrown towards the window. This time, Ted became scared. The piece fell inside the room. The man instantly covered Teddy's mouth to stop him from shouting. "It's okay, little guy. Nothing's going to happen. Everything's fine." He comforted. The words didn't comfort Ted at all. He kicked his legs and flailed about. The other guard silently watched from the other end of the room.

The guard holding Ted kicked the thing on fire around. Slowly, the wood caught on fire. The furniture in his room caught on fire. The plastic began melting. The toys lit up ablaze. Ted's clothes began to burn. The other guard stealthily got out of the room and left. The room was in one corner of the house. It would take the others some time to notice. The other guard closed the door and went. The on inside made sure the door caught on fire. Then, he stuffed Ted's mouth with cloth, deftly tied the boy to a chair in the centre. The roar of the fire overshadowed Teddy's muffled screams.

Then the man jumped out of the window.

I just stared at her, dazed at her capacity for evil. At that time, I heard police sirens. Everyone's face turned towards the door.

Then suddenly, Falcon shouted, "Ma'am, move!" I was looked at him and in that split second, I felt something strike my chest, and eat its way inside. I looked down slowly as another bullet lodged itself into my ribs. I opened my mouth, but no sound escaped it. I looked up and saw Elena shrieking with laughter. I saw the cops cuffing her. I could her several people shouting and shrieking incessantly.

Why was there so much noise? I touched my chest and looked at my hands. They were as red as my dress. I heard an ear-piercing cry. Seconds later, I realised that it was mine. Stunned, I closed my eyes, the pain unbearable. I felt hands around my shoulder, picking me up. I exhaled once and succumbed to the yawning black hole that seductively pulled me to it.


	27. Aftershocks

The air was tense and gripping. It was that kind of moment which nobody wanted to miss and even if they did, they couldn't. It was enrapturing and intoxicating. It drew the people in and gripped them in its fist, not letting go. Christian watched helplessly, unable to contain the volley between these two women, in spite of his efforts. He watched their power struggle tilt precariously and dangerously, leaning to one extreme and then the other. He watched in befuddled amazement how, after so much meticulous planning and detailed efforts and execution, Elena still managed to drag the scales down in her favour.

"You think you are the only one with the grand plans, Anastasia? You think only you have the resources to destroy someone's life? I have a few tricks up my sleeve too. Or up me boots, shall I say? I am going to make your life a living hell, regardless of where I live." Elena sneered, looking at a devastated Ana. Christian desperately wanted to stand by her side and hold her in his arms, comfort her. But he knew that was crossing boundaries. That ass, Edley had disappeared from the scene so easily, when he was supposed to be doing all that for her. The lost look on Ana's face and his inability to do anything about it doubled his frustration.

Then the police sirens began sounding. At last, some reprieve, he thought. He turned and walked in the direction of the front door, about to take charge of the matter. Immediately, Falcon shouted, "Ma'am, move!"

A gun shot. A scream. All within the one second he took to turn his face around to see what was going on. Ana was looking at her stomach dazedly, not really able to believe she had just been shot. She was not able to comprehend the fact. She was going into shock. Christian began running towards Elena to tackle her down. As he ran, Elena single-mindedly focused and shot the love of his life in the abdomen one more time, just a hair's breadth away from the first wound. Christian's heart swooped down to his feet. Panic sank in.

In an act of desperation, with an inhuman cry of rage, he jumped on top of the woman who was the sole reason for his ruin in every sphere of his life. He shoved her to the ground and punched her in the face, eliciting a satisfying sound of bone breaking as well as a scream of pain. He pushed her back disgustedly and spat at her before turning back and running towards his beloved.

Ana screamed loudly; the sound sent shivers down his spine. It made his blood run cold. He moved as fast as he could towards her. He ran to her side and held her by her shoulders. "Ana." He said urgently. "Ana, calm down. It's going to be okay. Relax."

Her legs gave up and she collapsed. He caught her before she fell. "Ana, baby, listen to my voice, okay? Don't close your eyes. Whatever you do, don't close your eyes."

Her eyelids drooped and slowly caressed her cheek, staying there and refusing to budge.

"Why are you so fucking stubborn?" He swore frustratedly, his heart thumping with fright. Unconscious gunshot victim was a very, very bad sign. He placed a hand on the wounds and pressed it tightly, to prevent more blood loss from her body. He had heard that bullet wounds with no exit wounds were more dangerous, but he didn't dare to move her from her position to actually check. The ambulance arrived a minute later.

The men placed her on a stretcher and carried her into an ambulance. Christian followed them anxiously and was about to board the van when they asked, "Sir, are you related to the victim?"

"She's my wi-" He began angrily when he realised she wasn't.

He stepped back slowly, as if time had slowed down. He slowly shook his head. He watched mutely as Falcon got on the vehicle muttering something to them.

He slowly trudged towards his car, his back feeling as if the entire world's weight rested on them. He had had it all. He had had her, the only woman he would ever love. He had let her go with an open door and without as much as a thank-you card. What kind of a fool was he? He was the reason she was in such a fatal condition right then. He was the only reason.

He got inside the car, signaling Taylor to follow the ambulance. Replaying the scene in his head, his heart shattering into a million pieces as the bullet lodged itself into her being. He clenched his fist, burying it into the leather seat of the car. He didn't know how she was then, he didn't know whether she was alive or... he didn't even want to think of the alternative. A sudden panic seized him as he thought of a world without her. His eyes widened and his breath came out faster. His throat constricted. His brows were pulled together.

He would die, without doubt, if the reason for his existence ceased to exist. He would become a shell of the man he was, crushed, defeated, dead. When she lived, there was some kind of an assurance that she still existed and that served as a kind of hope for him. As long as she was there, he would try and try. But if... if she... if she ceased to exist?

He suddenly let out a choked sob. His insides felt as if he was on fire. His chest hurt at the thought of her hurting. His stomach clenched at the thought of her bearing the pain without him beside her to comfort her, to provide her the strength she didn't have. He gripped his chest, desperate for a cathartic release. His chest became heavier by the second with the anguish, with the pain. He leaned forward and rocked back and forth, willing it away.

Come on, Christian, he said to himself. Pull it together. Control yourself. You need to be strong. For her. Especially now. He straightened, adjusting his tie. Then the picture of Teddy's expression on seeing his mother swam in front of his face.

And Christian broke down.

"Move it to the right. No, not you. You. A little forward. Yeah, now back it up. Back it up till the w-" Blake stopped short. He sniffed. He hadn't been wrong. It was smoke. "Shit." He whispered. He began running towards the stairs and up. "Call the ambulance and the fire station!" He yelled at the others, knowing intuitively what had happened.

He picked up the fire extinguisher fixed at the end of the corridor as he ran. He hurried to the flaming door and pressed the nozzle, facing it towards the door. Some of the fire in the middle disappeared, leaving a black residue. He kicked the door open, and jumped past a flaming piece of wood. The entire room crackled vengefully. "Teddy!" He yelled, terrified.

He walked past the burn belongings, the fallen pieces and the thick blanket of smoke that covered his eyes. He couldn't see anything until he actually came in close proximity. He yelled the little boy's name again. No response. He began walking quickly and found the kid tied to a chair in the centre of the room. He wasted no time. He untied the child and removed the piece of cloth from his mouth. Teddy's head was lolling to the side and his eyes were closed. He was unconscious. Blake swore again.

He scooped Ted up into his arms and ran out to escape the suffocating heat. He didn't stop until he was outside. He laid the child down on the floor and slapped his face a couple of times. "Teddy. Ted. Wake up." One of the guards arrived with some water. Blake sprinkled it on Ted's face. "Hey. Buddy. Wake up. Come on, let's play basketball." He urged. Ted didn't move an inch.

The ambulance arrived by now. They quickly loaded Teddy inside and Blake got on saying, "I am his bodyguard. I have the authority to stay with him." And they drove off to the hospital.

Christian clutched at the seat in front of him hard, wanting to tear it off. Wanting to hurt someone or something. His phone began to ring. Ah, perfect. He could throw the phone. But he checked the caller's name. It was Ana. His heart skipped a beat. "Grey." He said gruffly.

"Sir, this is Falcon. I just received news from Tacoma."

"What is it?"

"Sir… Master Theodore has been admitted to the hospital there after being involved in a fire incident. They tell me that he has lung congestion, and second degree burns."

Christian felt a hand creep up his heart and squeeze it and kill it. His world spun around him. The earth seemed to shake underneath. Teddy, the light of his life. His little ray of sunshine. Junior. The little bundle of laughter. His constant source of happiness. For a minute, he forgot all about Ana. He wanted to drop everything and run to his side. "When did this happen?" He said hoarsely into the phone.

"About 20 minutes ago, Sir." He replied. Christian could hear a beeping heart monitor in the background.

"How is she?" He asked, his throat clenching.

"Alive." Falcon said curtly. "For now."

For now. The possibilities of that statement threatened to drown him in an abyss of doom and misery. But he had to keep himself afloat. He had to keep swimming. He had to even swim for those who were drowning. He. Had. To. Survive. "Taylor. Drive to Tacoma. Now."

Dominic stood on the staircase in front of a local church. He had realised that he sometimes found peace, coming to a religious, lonely area. He picked at the grass on the ground, ignoring the tears that coursed through his cheeks. He had suddenly transformed into a young boy of nine, who had seen his mother, his real mother, for the first time New York, outside the Plaza where a charity function was going on. His parents had come there to take him on a vacation and he had escaped from their hotel in the night. He waited idly on the pavement when he saw her. She looked so grand and beautiful. She looked intimidating and powerful.

"Mother!" He shouted. "Mom! Elena!" The woman turned to him slowly. Her eyes searched until it spotted him. They rested on him coldly for a few seconds, recognition setting in.

"Go." She said. One syllable, one word. In nine years. Go. Just like that, she turned and entered the hotel, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his broken hope and trust.

He was such a fool, placing his faith in her again and again. Believing in her. Hoping for a scrap of love, a tender word, a soft emotion from the woman who bore him. That's all she did. She had just kept him waiting. And he hadn't been allowed to enjoy what he really had, in the process of wanting something he could never have.

Such a stupid fool.

His phone began blaring, as it had been for the past twenty minutes. He sighed and looked at his phone. Christian Grey. What the fuck did this guy want? He swiped the screen to answer it.

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, knowing he wouldn't call for any other purpose.

"Ana's been shot by that woman. Twice. I need you to go to the hospital and be with her. Teddy is in danger too. I have to go to Tacoma. Go quickly." He said shortly.

"I'll be there in ten." He replied equally curtly. He ran to his car and got into it. He started the engine and jammed his leg into the accelerator.

I woke up fighting against the pillow of fog that had been stuffed against my face. I wanted to be conscious, to be on my toes. I had had enough of hospitals to last a lifetime. The pillow of fog appeared to be stuffing my stomach too, for some reason. The pain in my stomach felt as if a volcano was erupting there. I forcibly threw off my dazedness and returned to reality. My eyes suddenly shot open. I was instantly bounded by the light that surrounded this private hospital room. I flinched once. My pupils slowly adjusted to the lighting. I brought up my elbows and tried to push my body up.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You have to lie down. Or the stitches will open up." I heard Dominic's voice say. He was beside my bed. He gently held my shoulders and pushed me back on the bed.

"Stitches?" I asked scratchily. My voice was hoarse. It hurt to speak. What a new experience. He realised this and poured out water from a jug and held it near my mouth. I sipped on it contentedly.

"Ana, do you remember what happened?" He asked me, searching my face. "You were shot. By Elena Lincoln." And the floodgates just opened. The memories flooded back into my brain, swirling and swimming, threatening to take me under once again. I collapsed back on the pillow, trying to make sense, trying to accept. "Ana?" He whispered.

"Yeah." I said in a small voice. "Yeah, I remember." I shifted in the bed for a while. "Help me up." I said to him.

"Babe..." He hesitated. "You have to just lie down and basically not do anything. The wounds will reopen otherwise." I looked at him, ready to give him a full-on glare. His hair was rumpled. His shirt was crinkled - the same as the one he was wearing the other day. His face looked haggard and worn. His eyes were red from sleeplessness and fatigue.

"How long?" I whispered.

"Three days." He answered, knowing what I was asking. I closed my eyes and sighed. Just then, a doctor entered. He smiled professionally and put on his stethoscope. He checked my heart beat and my pupils and everything else. An uncomfortable procedure, no doubt.

"How do you feel, Ms Steele?" He asked, writing something down.

"Like I am fucked over." I answered irritatedly. How the fuck else would I feel? Then I sighed. Manners, Ana. "My chest hurts a lot, which is to be expected, I suppose. My head hurts. I feel a little disoriented, tired and thirsty. That's all."

"Alright. Press this button right here for injection of the painkillers in case the pain gets too unbearable." He said. He gave a few other instructions and left the room. I sighed.

"Thanks for being here." I told Dominic. "You shouldn't have been involved in my life's drama. I shouldn't have dragged you in."

"Are you kidding me?" He replied angrily. "I needed to have been involved. Otherwise I would have never learnt my lesson about that bitch."

"I'm sorry." I said morosely. "I never knew about her being your... mother. I would've never bothered you otherwise."

"Of course you didn't. How could you have?" He said kindly. He placed a palm in my cheek. "Ana. Don't berate yourself. It's okay, I'm fine. We all learnt something from everything that happened." He reiterated. I sighed again. It was becoming difficult to breathe and talk properly with my ribs hurting.

"Well then, you shouldn't have stayed up so long, waiting for me. That wasn't necessary." I said, feeling bad that I had made him take such pains for my sake. I bated that I had caused him so much trouble.

"Ana, shut up. You're acting as if you took a knife and brought it near my throat, forcing me to take care of you. Believe me, you didn't. Stop feeling so guilty! None of this was your fault!" He said earnestly. I managed a smile and closed my eyes, bearing the pain.

"Well, better me than anyone else. I have already been so fucked up. What's a little more?" I said in a cavalier tone. Then I opened my eyes. "So what happened?"

He looked uncomfortable, and a strained look came upon his face. "You lost consciousness and you were losing a lot of blood. But Christian's quick thinking saved you, I think. They brought you to the hospital and performed the surgery where you... flatlined for a few seconds. You just wouldn't fucking come back. But then you did, obviously. They removed one bullet. The other one is still lodged inside you, but apparently, that won't bother you. It will make its way to the surface and then you can have it removed."

"Oh." I said. What a response. I couldn't believe I had nearly died. But then again, it wasn't unfathomable. It wasn't as if I hadn't experienced near death situations before. "At least my son doesn't have to see me like this in Seattle."

"Ana..." he began hesitatingly. I looked into his green eyes inquiringly. "I... I'm not sure I'm the right person to inform you this... but..." He fidgeted for a few seconds and the. whipped out his phone. He dialled a number and held it to his ear. "Yeah, she is awake. Should I...? ... Okay. Okay, wait." He put it to speaker phone.

"Ana." Christian's voice breathed into the phone. "How are you?"

I was taken aback. I didn't know Dominic had Christian on speed dial. "Christian." I said. "I wanted to thank you. I heard yo-"

"Don't." He said hoarsely. "Please don't." I hesitated.

"Christian, what's wrong?" My alarm bells started ringing loudly. "Is everythi-"

"It's Teddy." He said in a rush, sounding nearly in tears. "Someone put fire to your house and tied him up in a room and one of your men pulled him out but it was too late and..."

My heart monitor began beeping erratically. I got up, ignoring the excruciating pain. "No, no he can't be. That's ridiculous. That's... not possib-"

"No, he's alive." He assured me hurriedly. "But he's in a coma. And the doctors don't know when he will wake up. Mother looked at him too. She... she said... she said they can't do anything more." I could hear him breathing raggedly. I could hear myself gasping. In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. Breathe. Hurts. Everything hurts. Shouting. Can't... sit... still... be... with... Teddy... and then I knew no more.

"Theodore." I said, the second I woke up again. I sat up, using my unending will power.

"Ms Steele. You need to rest. You need to relax. Lie down." Said a nurse next to me. There were two doctors. Dominic stood next to them, eyeing me worriedly. I didn't budge.

"I can't stay here. I need to be with my son. I need to be next to him. What am I still doing here?" I asked, panicking agitatedly.

"Ms Steele, you just had a heart attack. You cannot take on more stress. It wouldn't do you or your son any good." One of the doctors who had examined me before said. He came and stood next to me, forcing me down the bed. "You will listen to what I have to say; because I am the doctor you have paid for here, okay? Right. You had two bullet wounds on your chest which..."

He went on to spout some medical jargon. I managed to understand that my lungs were damaged. And now, so stomach wall was ruptured and one of the upper ribs was a little broken. He stopped there. I blinked, staring at him. He blinked back. "Is that it?" I asked him. His eyes widened with surprise. He nodded. I turned to Dominic. "Babe, can you call Falcon. please?" He nodded and went out. A second later. Falcon was inside. He looked so remorseful that he couldn't even meet my eyes. I couldn't muster any sympathy for him. "Falcon, have you got down all the medications and treatments and all that bullocks?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Doctor is it one hundred per cent detrimental to my health to fly or even ride in a car?"

"Flying is more dangerous. I advise against traveling altogether."

"Falcon, arrange for a car quickly. By quickly, I mean in the next twenty minutes. Finish the paperwork. We need to leave for Tacoma in 30 minutes." I ordered. "Doctor, please arrange for my discharge immediately. I need to go see my son."


	28. Frission

The car rode inside the narrow alley next to the back door of the hospital. It had been a long and tiring ride, with Dominic putting up with my morose company. He had been extraordinary. He had been so patient and helpful throughout, but in his own crass way. He would make light of my condition and then do something utterly thoughtful like feeding me, or calling Christian for updates. He would shove the truth of the situation into my face, but made sure I knew that he had me to deal with this truth. It was a refreshing change from all the tiptoeing I was used to.

Dominic quickly got out of the car. I had leaned back against the headrest, feeling utterly famished. I drew in deep breaths from my mouth and I couldn't speak a full sentence without pauses. I saw Christian standing outside the back door, holding a wheelchair. I was curiously touched by the gesture. I also felt stirrings of my previous persona as a damsel in distress, but there was a difference, this time. I had been shot twice and had nearly died.

Dominic opened the door of the car. He supported my shoulders and helped me get out. He sat me on the wheelchair. He pushed the chair into the building. A couple of doctors arrived on scene, no doubt on Christian's commands, and checked me up. "The pulse is weak," They muttered. "She is in a bad shape. She shouldn't have travelled. Let's get her in quickly." Christian immediately grabbed hold of the handles and steered the wheelchair, following the doctors' directions.

They got me into a private ward, but I didn't care about that. "Is this-" Gasp, "close to…" gasp, "Ted?" I asked, struggling to breathe right now, and gripped Christian's arm urgently.

"He's right across the hall." He assured me. I relaxed slightly. I had to see him. I had to see my baby boy soon, or I would go mad from the worry and fear. I was so tense that the slightest provocation could push me off the edge. I had pictured Ted in my head a million times, suffering the agony of burns on his skin; picturing the images of him trapped in that bloody room, crying for me; picturing him frightened and lost, screaming against the unbearable pain that fire brought with it. And that was enough provocation for me.

I knew I had to be tough and strong for him, that I had to be his unconscious source of comfort. But I had had enough of the toughness. There is only so much even the hardest diamond can withstand before breaking in the face of a sharp-edged glass. I had faced my glass that had cut me into pieces a million times over, and I could not, simply could not, stand up again bravely and face it.

It was just too goddamned much.

I choked back a sob, unable to bear the reality of the situation I had lured myself into. I was the reason behind my son's current predicament. I was the reason that he was in danger of losing his life! I moaned once in agony and then the crying came out freely. I saw that the doctors had left, after hooking me up to a couple of machines and the IV fluid. Christian knelt beside me and looked at me inquiringly with his beautifully grey, concerned eyes. "My fault…" I sobbed, sniffing. "All my fault."

His face adopted a pained expression. He stood up and covered my slender frame within his embrace. I stiffened, flinching for a second. "Don't." I said. "I… just don't." He paused, drawing back. But then, I gave up. I gave up on the unending hostility, my need for a forced distance. He read my body language and went ahead.

He murmured comforting nonsense into my hair. He let go and cupped my face in his palms, as if dealing with a delicate glass vase. "I know." He whispered; his eyes boring into mine. "I know."

A feeling of mutual understanding, an understanding that only parents could possess, passed through us, forging an unbreakable bond, a connection. In that moment, I felt more grounded and secure than I had felt in that last seven years; like I would be invariably caught if I were freefalling from the sky, and I needn't call me security to arrange for a safe landing.

I slowly took his hands off my cheeks and nodded, letting him know that I was better. He nodded back, getting up. "Can I see him now?" I asked Christian anxiously. He quickly dialled the doctor's number. After a short conversation, he wheeled me out of the room and into another.

The first thing I spotted was Ted's ruffled hair. His body was covered with a white sheet of cloth. His head was straight and his mouth was pursed. Several wires and tubes hung from him, attached to bottles and monitors surrounding him. I began noticing insignificant details. Ted didn't have a white blanket; he had that yellow one with Astroboy on it. He never slept with his head or body straight. They were always moving around all over the place. His mouth never closed while sleeping; it was always open, forming a perfect little 'o'.

The details didn't seem insignificant anymore. This picture was all wrong. This wasn't who my son was. But it is, Ana, my subconscious said, looking at me pityingly. It is Theodore. Don't be silly. Don't cause a fuss. I moved the wheelchair to beside his bed. I just stared at his bandaged face. I stared for fuck knows how long, not noticing anything, anyone else. I lifted my hand. I noticed it was trembling. I slowly put it underneath the sheet and found his little hand. I clasped it in mine. I couldn't even hold it properly because of all the needles stuck into his hand, and mine.

What kind of a pathetic situation was this? And who was behind it?! My subconscious screamed. "Me." I whispered. "Me." My body began shaking. I suddenly noticed that my cheeks were wet. I bent down and buried my face into my son's stomach. I had finally lost it.

I began wailing and crying like I hadn't before in my whole life. I screamed and sobbed agitatedly. I used up all the tears I had, all the energy I possessed and all the grief that rotted inside me. Somewhere along the way, I felt Christian's arm around my shoulder. He was crying too. That upset me even more. I sat back and leaned into his torso, still quivering and weeping. He put both his arms around me and we stood like that. Teddy would have been happy to see this. We were standing like a family again.


	29. Just Fine

The next morning, the two of us sat passively, staring at our son. It was hell, and I _had_ to endure it. I had no choice. We occasionally caught each other glancing at the other and we immediately looked away. At least, I did. I didn't know about him. I expected something to happen just like in the movies with my son, his nose twitching, his fingers moving, his lips parting. I alternated between several possibilities, constantly looking at him, his entirety. None of these happened. Nothing was happening. I was getting frustrated, but Christian sat with infinite patience.

I had deliberately placed myself a mile away from him so that nothing remotely endearing could take place again. He appeared to be slightly peeved by that fact. I didn't care. Because the last thing I ever wanted in this lifetime was more confusion and more complication. Simplicity was my mantra henceforth. "Any change?" Came a voice from behind us, making s both jump. I turned to see Dominic leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest. I shook my head, trying to stand up. Christian rushed from his spot to gently shove me back down to the chair. "Sit back," Dominic said, striding in. He turned his head towards Christian and said politely, "May we have a minute, please?" I saw a flicker of something in Christian's eyes, as he silently left the room.

Dominic walked towards me and knelt in front of me. He placed both his hands on my knees, staring at them for a couple of seconds. Then his eyes bore into mine. "I… I came to say goodbye." He said, sadness, flooding his eyes. "I'm sorry, for any confusion or trouble either me or that woman has caused to you. I know and understand that sorry doesn't cut it. Nevertheless, it becomes my responsibility to apologise."

I opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off.

"No, don't say anything. It is speech time for me." He said, with a half-smile. "I did some thinking for long hours and I came to the sorry conclusion that I am in no mental state for a romantic relationship. I need to get in terms with certain things in my life and get my shit sorted. I need to put things in order. I can't continue to live haphazardly. So, while we never actually went out in the first place, I… I want to tell you that we cannot be together anymore."

There was silence as we stared at each other. Neither of us said a word as we heard the clock on the wall tick. I broke this tension with a smile. "I get it. I get what you are saying, and I feel the same way. But you are a good friend, Dom, and I really like you for that. I hope we can remain friends and be in touch."

"That was never in dispute!" Dominic said. "Of course we will remain friends! You are one of the finest women I have ever known and it would be my pleasure and honour to be considered as a dear friend." We both smiled. He stood up. "I will keep visiting to see if the kid's doing better. Keep me posted." He said. He leant forward and kissed me on my right cheek. "See you around, Ana." He said and walked out. A couple of minutes later, Christian walked back in.

My feelings were neither tumultuous nor aggrieved. I felt ambivalent. I did not feel anything specific. I just felt calm, knowing that one complication was at least handled. He was a good friend and an equally good hook-up, but I had always known that it could not be anything more. And that was the end of that chapter. Thinking so, I stared at the door, out of which he had just walked out of.

Suddenly, I heard erratic beeps. Those clichéd erratic beeps. I knew what they meant. Either good or terrible news. I inadvertently stood up, cursing violently afterwards. I limped to his side, clutching my abdomen. Christian rushed to call the doctors who arrived almost instantaneously. They did a thorough check up and then stepped back. I looked at them in horror.

"What's going on? Why aren't you doing anything?" I shouted.

"Because," One of them said. "He seems to be waking up." My heart thudded and stuttered. I collapsed back in my chair. Sweat broke out of my forehead as the tension seemed to dissipate from my body.

"Thank god, thank god, thank god, thank god…" I muttered continuously. I looked at Christian and he looked wide-eyed. He looked equally relieved. We watched our son with breathless anticipation as the beeping settled down.

His eyes opened. Just a little bit. But they opened.

A single tear trickled down my cheek. Christian stood with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. His classic worried look. I looked back at our son. His small lips parted. He licked his lower lip and his fingers finally twitched. They shook and trembled as he managed to raise his hand. He looked at me and extended his arm. "Mom." He said hoarsely. I stood and walked towards him, wiping my cheek steadily. I cupped his cheek with my palm. I leaned down and kissed his forehead.

"Hey, baby boy. How are you feeling?" I whispered, struggling to keep my tears at bay, and succeeding. His lips moved and an inaudible whisper escaped his lips. I intuitively realised he needed water. I motioned to Christian and he gave me the water bottled. I unscrewed the cap and slowly dipped it to his mouth. I made him drink it sip by sip until he pursed his lips, signalling that he had had enough.

I put my hand on his hand and stroked his soft hair. It felt wiry. I smiled at him, and he attempted to smile back. My chest ached at this but I maintained a strong façade. It would not do if I lost my cool at critical moments like this. "Hurts." He managed to whisper again.

"I know, baby. I know. But you have to be strong." I told him, my heart aching at the sight of him suffering. The doctors then took over, doing the cursory check-up, to test how conscious he was and how aware. His senses seemed to be working fine, but his head seemed to be aching. Which was a part of the healing process, the docs informed us.

"We will have him hospitalised for the next one week, to facilitate the treatment and observation. You can take him home then. He needs scrutinised care after that, but he's going to be just fine, if all goes well."

Those last few words echoed through my mind. _He's going to be just fine… he's going to be just fine._

He was going to be just fine.


	30. Ever After

Christian and I debated weeks later as to where our base would be. I yielded despite his objection and I moved into our old home. That was quite an interesting day. We both took turns, week after week to working from home to going to work. Then, eventually Ted got better. So did our relationships. We became friends, and we got to know each other again. He adjusted and accommodated. To every inch I yielded, he moved a mile for me, and I could see the stark and honest effort he was putting in for me.

We slept in separate rooms, but we lived under the same roof. And my magnanimity increased when I saw his repentance. After all, he was only human and he, too, made mistakes. Once I forgave him, I felt a huge weight lift of my shoulder and letting go of the grudge only did me good. Our first re-kiss felt like no time had passed since our bodies had known each other. I was hesitant but confident, and he took nothing for granted. He worshipped the floor I walked on, he regarded everything I gave him as a blessing. I was treated as no less than a goddess.

Things got even better as I was able to step in to the room we once lived in. The nightmares ceased to exist the more I trusted him. We began living together and I firmly believe that this was one of the reasons why Ted got better much faster. We created that conducive environment for him. Dominic and I remained in touch as did he and Christian. They soon became fast friends once I was out of the equation.

Elena was thrown into jail for life and the court deemed her actions unpardonable. That case was solved and zipped up. Nothing could be better, nothing could be worse. Time healed wounds and we all got back on track slowly. We had seen the highs, the lows, and the highs again and hoped that we had had enough lows for a lifetime.

Thinking thus, we lived happily ever after.


End file.
